


The Runaway

by CatCorley



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Bounty Hunters, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description, Male-Female Friendship, My First Smut, Original Character(s), POV Female Character, Plot, Porn, Porn With Plot, Slave Trade, Slavery, Smut, Strong Female Characters, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:55:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29339409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatCorley/pseuds/CatCorley
Summary: The life you are running from isn't one you would wish on your worst enemy.  Determined to escape and see the galaxy after so many years trapped, you find yourself running into an interesting situation...A Mandalorian raising a mysterious, yet charming child.  But what was a Bounty Hunter doing on your little moon, and who was he looking for?Based around season 1, deviates from canon, original story with original characters.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	1. The Runaway

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Rough Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21651097) by [guardianangelcas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardianangelcas/pseuds/guardianangelcas). 



Chapter 1

You panted as you ran, lungs screaming in pain like needles stabbing their insides. The weight of the blaster in your hand added the tiniest bit of forward momentum that pushed you to run faster away from the smoldering wreck of a trade stop behind you. The sand beneath your feet sprayed like splashing water each step you took, slowly closing the gap between you and the hideous pre-Imperial ship in front of you.  
You didn’t care who this ship belonged to, you were getting on it regardless. You’d fight your way on and take the pilot hostage if you needed to. You’d stow away in the cargo hold and could be on your way to Hoth for all you cared. Any option was better than turning around and facing the mess behind you.

You reach the back end of the ship, and as quick as you can remove the panel to start messing with the wires. Most ships were easy to hotwire, and not many people thought to block security bypasses by burying or disguising wires in the ship’s lock panel...but this one did. Shit.  
After taking a half a second to assess what you were looking at, you found the bypass wire wrapped in with the thruster wires. Clever.  
You quickly whip your head around, looking for one, the owner, and two, the empire-sympathizer trader and his goons you were running from. Your heart slammed in your chest thinking about what you were escaping. You were no angel, but regardless of what a person does, no one deserves the horrific life that you would have been imprisoned to at Ba’Aki Station 12.

  
The ramp’s hydraulic system released gas around you and opened just enough for you to jump and scramble into the ship and yank the sealing lever just as a blaster shot and hit the outside of the hull. You breathe a quick sigh of relief, being sheltered from the blasters and mob men outside, but you know you can’t rest until you’re lightyears away from this puny, Sarlacc-ridden sandtrap of a moon.  
You jolt to your feet and scramble around to locate the ladder to the bridge; you had to get out of here quick. But as soon as you turned your body around, you came face to face with the ship’s owner, who had his own Mandalorian blaster dialed on your skull. You quickly cocked and aimed your blaster at him too.

  
The silence hung.

  
You could hear yourself panting and your heart slamming in your ears. The sweat pasted the wisps of your hair to your face and neck, the rest in a long, messy, sandy braid down your back. You hadn’t even noticed him when you jumped into the ship, his beskar metal armor practically camouflaging him inside the all-metal interior of this rust bucket of a ship. Your heart grew icy with fear. You were so close to getting out of here.

The stagnant silence was broken by the softest coo coming from the corner, behind the Mandalorian. A small, green creature with big brown eyes, disproportionally large ears, and wispy white hairs atop his head giggled and cooed as he held up his six, chubby little fingers towards you, reaching out to be held.  
The sound seemed to snap the Mandalorian out of the silence as he whipped his head around to look at the child, and then back at you. Your reflection in his mirror-like beskar showed a worn, tired, and ultimately frightened person. You wouldn’t do anything to frighten this little child, especially harm his apparent caretaker. You had survived that pain, and you vowed long ago to never inflict that pain on another child ever again. So you held your hands up in surrender, praying to the stars that this Mandalorian would take pity on you, although doubting the thought as soon as it crossed your mind, given your limited knowledge of the creed.

  
You slowly got back down on your knees and lowered the blaster to the floor of the cargo hold, kicking it far away from you as a gesture of good-faith. “Please,” was all you could muster. Your heart pounded icy anticipation through your veins. You raised your hands high above your head, your sleeve falling down to your elbow as you did so, revealing the hideous livestock tattoo on the underside of your left forearm. “Please, I can’t go back out there. They’ll do worse than kill me if I do. Please,” you pleaded.

The Mandalorian’s helmet turned a fraction of an inch, looking at your tattoo and studying it for a curiously long time, though never moving his blaster. The guy was a statue. Aside from that small adjustment to see your tattoo, the rest of him was as still as stone. The tension hung tangibly thick. Your heart slammed as you mouthed please once more. The child made a ‘huh?’ sound and looked up at his caretaker. After an eternity, the Mandalorian lowered his blaster to his hip, keeping it cocked.  
His modulated voice growled “Get up.” as he grabbed your arm and shoved you into a storage room filled with hanging figures encased in carbonite. You stumbled into the storage room as his iron-like hand shoved you into the small space. The hydraulic door slammed and beeped locked behind you.

  
You stumbled, but eventually stood up and listened quietly as the sounds of boots on ladder rungs quickly ascended into the cockpit. Moments later, the sounds of blasters outside the ship rang out, a few shots hitting the hull’s exterior. Indiscernible shouting in many languages and dialects rang from outside, making it clear that your oppressors were closing in on the ship. Just then, the sounds of the thrusters whirred and scraped to life and were punched a little too soon, before they had time to get warmed up.

  
You were thrown back, slamming into the unfortunate soul in carbonite, rattling him against his unfortunate friends behind him. You felt the gravity shifting as the ship rocketed towards the sky, making obvious evasive maneuvers, likely evading the blasters coming from the ground. Your body was tossed all over the storage room, bruising and bouncing off walls.

Finally, after several long minutes of unsuccessfully fighting G-forces, you felt as the rusty, creaking ship steadied in the upper atmosphere of the sandy moon below you. As the ship passed the final atmospheric bump as it entered outer space, the hyperjump engines whirred and punched, sending the ship rocketing through spacetime. Destination unknown.

You sank down in the storage room and folded your knees close to your chest, finally taking a breath after what seemed like an eternity. You were off of that hell hole of a moon, and now your oppressors would never be able to find you as you sped through the galaxy. You allowed yourself a rare single tear before you collected yourself. You weren’t one for emotions, as emotions were a sign of vulnerability where you came from. “Wasted water,” as your Uncle Taru would say.  
Having lost your parents before you were a year old, you were raised by your Uncle Taru until you were 10. A hardened mineral miner during the Empire years, the man knew nothing about managing the emotions of an adolescent girl. In the tiny mining town of Kyyba, the people were coarser than the sand, and just about as dry. Water was scarce, sacred, and expensive, so preventing tears was a matter of survival.

  
Painful memories flashed like a kaleidoscope in front of your mind’s eye. Images of Sand People, burning bodies, destroyed buildings, Banthas, and collapsed mines arose. Then the images of her oppressors, forcing her hand to steal and loot from any unwitting potential trader passing through Ba’Aki Station 12. Iron cages with dozens of other children, of all species, locked in hot darkness, stored away until necessary. Then the most recent, the exchange of a large sum of credits for “one useful female”.

You shake your head of the memory, hugging your legs tight into your chest, feeling thankful to be free of that place.  
The sounds of small, light footfalls on the ladder rungs drew your attention. With each ladder rung descended, a tiny grunt followed the effort. You smile, imagining that pint-sized creature climbing his way down ladder rungs as wide as he is tall. With the last rung descended, you hear the child fall to the floor of the cargo hold and make his way closer to the door of the storage room.

  
The hydraulic door whips open loudly, releasing hydraulic gas as it slams open. In the doorway, the child looks at you and smiles. “Bah!” he says, whatever that means. He reaches his six little sausage fingers for you, physically asking you to pick him up. You crawl over to the pipsqueak and oblige, sweeping his shockingly dense little figure up in your arms. He giggles in happiness as you do. His big brown eyeballs glisten as they look at you knowingly. The kid stares at you as if he can read exactly what you’ve been through, and knows you wouldn’t dare hurt him.

  
The sound of panicked shuffling comes from upstairs, metal banging on other metal, things being shoved aside. The hydraulic door to the bridge slams open loudly and a metallic figure appears at the top of the ladder, clearly the source of the panicked noises above.  
The Mandalorian looks down on you as you hold his kid, who looks up at him and again says “Bah!” with a big, little smile. Mando descends the ladder in a quarter second and hovers his right hand above the blaster at his hip, his left reaching straight out in front of him at you, begging you to not harm his child. “Drop the kid.” He says through a modulated voice. “Now!” He growls.  
You again hold up your free hand, showing your palm in innocence. “I’m not going to hurt him, you have my word.” You say, as you gingerly drop the cute little gremlin at your feet and gently usher him towards his dad.

“Your word means nothing to me.” Mando barks scooping up the kid and locking him in the tiny bedroom next to the storage room you had just emerged from. The Mandalorian turns to face you, clearly tense, but weighing something regardless.

“I realize that.” You respond, looking down at your dirty clothes. “Thank you for getting me out of that place, regardless.”

“Touch the kid again and I’ll rocket you right back.” He says curtly. He looks like he’s poised to pounce. Predator and prey.

“I don’t mean any harm. You took my blaster, and I have nothing else. I wouldn’t dream of hurting a kid. Trust me, I kn--” You drop your head again, exhausted emotionally and physically. You decide your next move carefully. “Listen, I don’t have anything to give you, and I can’t pay for your transport. But I can fly. I can fly anything in this galaxy, and fix it faster than any mechanic droid.” You turn to point behind you at the ramp door you had jumped through at Ba’Aki, “That loose panel out there is not going to like this flying through hyperspace. The radiation is enough to fry and damage the wires, let alone--.” You take a cautious step forward, raising both of your hands again. “I can fix this ship up for you and have her running as smooth as silk, if you drop me off at the next port.”

You drop your hands to your sides. The Mandalorian doesn’t move an inch; not his helmet, not his hands, not a muscle. He looks more machine than man encased in all of that metal and holding as still as he is. So when he does stand, and a little more relaxed at that, it makes you jump.  
“Fix the ship. If it’s still running by the time we get to Mos Eisley, we can talk about a deal.” He directs. Though you cannot see through the small slits in this beskar helmet, you know his eyes are scanning you up and down. Your heart rate picks up at this, though you’re not sure if it is fear. “But I will be watching every move you make.” He says, tapping on his helmet. You weren’t sure what kind of capabilities that helmet had, but you knew that there was no slipping things by a Mandalorian, let alone a Bounty Hunter Mandalorian.  
You nod your head softly.

_____

The Mandalorian shows you where all of the necessary tools were on the ship and gives you a long, but manageable list of things to fix on this ancient rust bucket. You got right to work as soon as you were able. He went back up into his cockpit, this time bringing the kid along in a small floating egg contraption, and leaving the door open so he could watch you work.  
The first few tasks were easy. Some mis-wired electrical boxes, hyperfuses blown, and a tricky, misfiring lever. Nothing you hadn’t played around with before. The next was up in the bridge, though, and you felt the need to alert him before ascending the ladder.

  
“Hey Mando, you asked me to optimize the comms spectrum, so I’ll be climbing up there now.” You look at the back of his helmet from the cargo hold, up through the open door. Silence. That must be how he operates.  
You climb the ladder and he still doesn’t move, though you can only assume that he somehow knows exactly where you are. The child smiles from his egg pod as he watches you come upstairs, holding onto a little silver ball. You smile at the kid and turn to your work. The Mandalorian slows the ship out of hyperspeed as we approach a fueling station about halfway to Tatooine.

  
You work in silence, making as little noise as necessary. You can feel the tension in the air, so much so that it feels like the pseudo-atmospheric pressure is off, but no one else seems to be reacting. It is as if the Mando is radiating unnamed tension from his body and filling the room with some kind of discomfort. You can’t blame him, though. You can understand how uncomfortable this must be to have a stranger break into your ship and be within feet of your kid. You sigh, making more noise than the mechanical panel you were working on. The last wire is soldered to the motherboard and the panel lights up. “There,” you state. “That should expand your comms range to pick up relays from outside your typical commuter channels.”  
Just then, as if to exemplify your work, an unnerving, yet familiar voice is picked up by the comms.

  
“--tor 1V195 relaying message to Razor Crest.” The Imperial clone states. You all look at the comms speaker in shock. A trooper? Out here? You think, as the blood drains from your face. You look around at the surrounding stars, searching for any ship that might be sending the message.

  
The message repeats: “Interceptor 1V195 relaying to Razor Crest, state your business in this Sector.” the clone orders. Just then, out of thin air, a small Imperial transport ship pops into view out of hyperspace and inches closer to the ship.  
The Mandalorian stares out the observation screen to his right as the Imperial transporter comes ever closer. He reaches to the comms panel and quickly relays. “This is Razor Crest to Interceptor 1V195. Transporting cargo to port station Mos Eisley.” He stops. The room hangs silently with bated breath, awaiting the next message from the Imperial transporter.  
“Interceptor 1V195 to Razor Crest, prepare for docking and inspection.” the clone states. The hull of the ship shakes as it is pulled into the docking bay of the transporter. Though it is a small ship compared to the rest of the Imperial fleet, the docking bay itself dwarfs the Mando’s ship.

Without moving, the Mandalorian states quietly to you “Hide the child, now.”

  
You don’t blink. You take the child and scramble down the ladder to the cargo hold, scanning your eyes in every direction, assessing where to best hide the child. You decide that the troopers likely won’t look at the very back of the carbonite bounties hanging in the storage closet, and will likely only see one or two bounties to be satisfied.  
You clamber around the half-dozen or so bounties and place the child on the ground in the back corner of the storage room. You bend down so that your eyes meet his, and touch your index finger to your lips “Shhh. You can’t make a sound, okay?” you whisper. The kid blinks, but you’re not convinced he understands.  
You close and seal the hydraulic door and stand facing the ramp as the Mandalorian comes to stand at your right. You feel cold, heavy metal being pressed into your hand, and realize that he has given you your blaster back. Oh... He’s expecting a fight. You quickly stuff the blaster under your shirt in the small of your back, and wait.

  
...and wait.

  
And wait.

The sound of the ship finally touching down in the docking bay rattles through the hull. You hear the clop-clop-clop of several Stormtroopers jogging up to the Razor Crest’s ramp and stop. A long moment later, the hydraulic seal on the ramp breaks open and the ramp lowers, bathing the cargo hold in bright white light from the docking bay. Three troopers stand at the base of the ramp, blasters at the ready. We put our hands up. I’m getting sick of having blasters pointed at me. You think, as the Commander with his orange markings ascends the ramp and asks the Mando for his credentials. Mando hands him a black data block, which is plugged into the transport tablet in the Commander’s hands. The other two troopers walk up the ramp and begin inspecting the ship.

  
Storage lockers are opened and rifled through, doors are left ajar, shit is tossed everywhere. You stand as still as you can but your eyes never leave the Stormtrooper to your left. The bastard keeps inching his way towards the storage room where the kid is hidden and your heart rate increases with every step he takes. What if the kid moved? What if he starts making noise? Your breath hitches as the trooper stands in front of the door, obviously preparing to open it. You move your right elbow ever so slightly to touch Mando to alert him. The Commander doesn’t seem to notice. Mando nods his helmet a fraction of an inch, only discernible if you were looking for it.  
The trooper opens the storage door and looks down in the doorway at a little green gremlin, who looks back up at him quizzically and says “Bah?”. “WHAT THE..!?” The trooper yells, you and Mando simultaneously reach for your blasters in a synchronized motion.

  
He grabs the Commander by the shoulder, bends him over, and shoots his blaster up through his center, piercing the tablet, thus erasing the Razor Crest’s data from the system.  
You spin around and shoot the trooper at the storage room door and spin his falling body away from the child. Mando shoots the remaining trooper, looks back at you now holding the child and screams “GO!” motioning his head towards the bridge. He sprints to close the ramp and seal the atmosphere while you scramble up the ladder and place the kid in his egg. Your heart pounds as you fire up the thrusters, while smashing the intercom button “Are you in?!” you yell frantically.  
“Yes! Go, now!” He yells back. You hear blasters over the intercom, so you realize that the ramp must still be down slightly. You pull the lever over your head to seal the door completely, and pull the lever to your right to engage shields. You hope to the stars that he is fastened in, or at least holding on, as you quickly slam the thrusters forward at full speed and burst out of the docking bay. The sound of metal clanking around reverberates off of the metal hull, and you wince at the thought of him being tossed around like salad down there.

Two TIE fighters burst from the transporter ship now growing smaller in the distance, accelerating with a bone chilling scream. Green blasters whiz by the observation shield and you take evasive maneuvers, serpentining your way through space as you try to remember the coordinates to punch for Mos Eisley. You yell over your shoulder down the open ladder “Mando get your ass up here, I need the coordinates!”. You jerk the ship left, narrowly avoiding another green blast, and you hear “Shit!” come from downstairs, along with more metal clanking. Again, you wince.

  
You steady her out for the split second you can to allow him to climb the ladder. He runs over and sits next to you in the copilot’s seat and starts punching in the coordinates necessary. You jerk the ship down and right, leading one TIE fighter in tow. The floating fueling station sits in front of you, thankfully empty of other ships. You gun it towards the fueling station, leaning your entire body weight into the lever. You close the distance in seconds, and you see in your periphery the Mandalorian brace hard on the navigation console, but seeming to trust you, regardless. The proximity alarm beeps rapidly, alerting you that you’re getting close to the station, but you wait just until it starts screaming to pull up rapidly, the G-forces pushing ten times your bodyweight into the chair.  
The TIE fighter collides with the fueling station, creating a magnificent, massive fireball exploding outwards, engulfing his unfortunate comrade in flames, the explosion silent in the vacuum of space.  
You mash the buttons to confirm the hyperspace coordinates Mando had entered, and send the Razor Crest hurdling into hyperspace.

_____

It was a long time before anyone said anything after that. The silence hung in the air of the ship, the three of you stunned and shellshocked. You could feel nothing but grateful to have gotten the three of you out of there safely.

You land the ship at the port quietly, no one having said a word since. Mando picks up his son and heads out, nodding for you to follow. You descend the ramp, blaster safely tucked again in the small of your back. You scan your environment as you walk around. This hot, desert planet felt unfortunately familiar, and yet so different at the same time. There were people and creatures everywhere, and the sounds were as varied as the populace.  
Mando handed the kid off to a fiery, curly haired woman running the docks that he apparently trusted enough to care for his child. They had a quick conversation out of earshot, but you noticed that they both kept looking over at you every so often. You felt a little judged.

  
Mando strutted over to you straight on, his beskar reflecting every color light in the visible area, yet he walked with intent. “Come with me.” he ordered. You followed his lead, far enough behind to not crowd him, but close enough to keep in stride. You could tell that he was a person who liked his space and privacy. The crowds in the streets were bigger than you had seen in your entire life. Thousands of people and creatures were walking around, all of them looking just as coarse as back in Ba’Aki. The buildings were the same color as the sand, and many were domed to keep the heat out. The pair of you weaved through the crowds in formation, and although he never turned around, you knew he was exactly aware of where you were.

  
After a while, he dipped into a hole in the wall door that was emitting music and loud talking. It was almost deafening to a person who had never been off of that sandy moon of Tar-V1. He motioned to a booth next to a round window that was emitting the only natural light in the dark cantina, while he approached the round bar in the center of the room. You sit down, adjust your long braid, and wipe the dust off of your pants. Not that you look unnatural in a place like this, with every creature under the sun here covered in sand and dirt, but suddenly you felt vulnerable and anxious about how you were perceived. You had obediently followed the Mandalorian here, when you had expected to be kicked off of the ship the second she touched solid ground. It was because you couldn’t read the situation that you were getting anxious. Still, you scanned the room looking for any outstanding potential threats to you and your host.

  
Mando sauntered up to the table, shoulders square with you in the booth. He sat down across from you, surprisingly gracefully for a walking disco ball, and shoved two drinks your way. One was the largest glass of water you’ve ever seen, and the second was a shimmering blue drink in a strangely-shaped glass. You looked back up at him questioning if one was for him, and he gestured a thumb towards his helmet. You nodded, understanding that he probably can’t eat or drink in public and feeling somehow sad about that. So you grab the glass of water and drink it down as fast as your body will let you, allowing your insides to be bathed in water for the first time in a long time.

“I want to thank you for saving the kid.” He said, his voice gravelly and modulated. “I don’t know how I would have handled that situation if--” he let the sentence hang.  
You look down at your hands, interlaced fingers on the table.  
“You know, I hardly know the kid a whole day and somehow he’s got this grip on me. I can sense that he means a lot to you, too. I’m just glad to have helped.” You stare back at your reflection in his thin visor. He leans forward to match your position, interlacing his own fingers on the table.

  
“After what happened back there, I thought about it a lot.” He looked around the room, apparently also assessing it for threats. “I can’t stand when that kid is in danger, so having you there to protect him and pilot the ship like that out of there…” He shook his head. “I’d like to offer you a job.” He looked up at you directly this time, almost pleading.

Your mouth fell open.

  
“I can’t pay you much, maybe 200 credits a day” he continued, as your eyes bugged out of your skull. “But having you around to help keep the Crest in shape and keep an eye on the kid would really bring me some peace of mind.” He finished, sitting back in the booth.  
When you remained silent, partly out of shock, he pushed the blue drink towards you further. You took a long swig and suddenly felt much better. So this is what booze tastes like.

  
You looked back up at the Mandalorian and somehow felt that you could trust him. Two hundred credits a day was a fortune where you came from. The miners in Kyyga made a tenth of that in a month, if they were lucky. The idea of your own personal ship came to mind, and the idea that you could travel and see the galaxy if you saved enough. You could see the snow on Hoth, which was currently beyond your wildest imagination. You sat there, dreaming, while the Mandalorian watched you. You looked back at his helmet, noticing all of the curves and angles in its structure, admiring the craftsmanship of it. You found yourself wondering what he looked like under that helmet. It was a strange sense of wonder, pity, and admiration at the same time. The poor guy would never be able to eat or drink in public, and yet you admired his dedication and conviction to his creed.

It was a beat before you remembered that you hadn’t given him an answer.  
“Mando, it would be an honor. I realize that you haven’t known me for long, but I’m going to prove myself to you.” You finally reply.  
“I know you will. For whatever reason, the kid seems to trust you, and that is almost good enough for me.”  
You look down and chuckle. “So I’ve passed the little green litmus test.” Mando made the strangest sound. It wasn’t a laugh, but through his modulator, it sounded like he blew more air out of his nose than normal. You looked back up at him and smiled, extending your hand.

  
“You have a deal, Mando.” He grabbed your hand with his leather-clad iron grip and shook it. “Where to first?”


	2. The Initiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for making up ship parts and engineering...  
> Also FLUFF...the smut is coming...I promise.

It has been months since you started working for the Mandalorian. Quiet months, albeit, but content months. You have fixed the ship more times than you can count at this point, from everything including surprise asteroid belts to the blasters of Gungan warriors, and everything in between. Mando hardly talked, and when he did, it was usually an ask or an order.  
You noticed something interesting about a month ago that you just couldn’t figure out. The group of you had been on a distant forest moon not far from Kashyyyk hunting a bounty for Mando’s connection, Greef Karga. Mando never asked what these bounties did, and you never asked either. It was a job and nothing else.

  
After chasing down a bounty for days, Mando finally brought the guy in, hog-tied in a thick braided steel line, leaving you to wonder how a person could be strong enough to bend the metal like that. You raised a questioning eyebrow at Mando when he dropped the quarry on the floor with thick thud. The Mandalorian stared at you for a beat longer than he should have. He stood there, next to the unconscious bounty, breathing heavy and looking directly at you. You stared back. Something about it made you feel powerful and vulnerable at the same time.  
When he finally broke stare, he dragged the hog-tied man and froze him in carbonite in the storage room. He avoided your stare after that as he headed up to the bridge and began getting ready to head into space. As the ramp closed, you took one last look at the tall greenery around you, breathing in the fresh, naturally filtered, moist air one more time.

The ramp sealed shut with a hiss and the atmospheric synthesizer engaged, once again creating a false environmental humidity with recycled water. It smelled stale. You sighed, the last of the clean air leaving your lungs. You turn around as you feel your pant leg being touched gingerly low on your calf. You smile as you turn, looking down at the little chrome ball being offered to you by a little green hand. “Why, thank you!” you state, swooping the dense little one up in your arms and gently setting him down on the bed in the Mandalorian’s sleeping cot, carefully accepting the chrome ball from his hand.

  
You step back a few steps and show him you’re going to throw the ball to him. You rock your hand forward a few times and gently toss the ball towards him. It lands with a heavy thud on the floor just beside him, and he turns back to you with a “Huh?”. You can’t help but let out a little giggle as you walk forward to grab the ball. “Okay, let’s try again, kiddo.”  
You step back again and slowly rock your hand in an underhand throw. “Ready? One, two, three!” You toss the ball slowly, and the ball lands again at his side, but this time he tries to grab it, albeit too late. You laugh and shake your head. “We’ll work on it, how about that?”  
You hear your name called from the cockpit. You pinch the kid’s cheek and make your way upstairs. “Yeah, Mando?” you ask as you emerge at the top of the ladder.  
Without turning around to acknowledge you, he states “We’re on our way to grab the last quarry of the bounty pucks I have.” He presses the buttons to seal atmosphere and check for hull breaches, which returns with a positive beep beep. He moves to the navigation chair and types in the coordinates registered to the tracking fob, and you slide into the driver’s seat.  
“Alright, so where are we heading?” You ask as you promptly take to your task of priming the thrusters and preparing for take-off.  
“Canto Bight.” he states flatly. Your heart is suddenly ice cold and your breath hitches. You have heard of this place before, from the mouth of your oppressor. Before you can stop it, your mind spirals into a cesspool of bad memories.

_____

Toodar Klut unlocked the padlock on the door to your cage, which had grown smaller in the 7 years you’ve lived in it. The thick, dark iron bars trapping you in this box hardly roomy enough for a jawa. “You have a grand mission today, kid.” Klut opens the creaking cage door and grabs your arm harshly, dragging you out before you can get your feet under you. Your legs are stiff, having been in a seated or crouched position in that tiny cage for so long. You looked back at it, and the dozens of other cages around it. Your only friend Faarqa had been taken out last week and never returned. You watched as the young Twi'lek screamed and grabbed for your outstretched hand, not being able to grab it in time.  
Klut shut the cage door and dragged you out into the storefront area of his trading post. “You see that gentleman there?” He pointed at a tall, dark haired, well-dressed man and the stall across the way from the trading post. “That is Grem Lento. A Canto Bight native worth more credits than this entire planet put together.” He stated, grabbing your chin and forcing your head to stare at the man. The Crolute Klut put his amphibious mouth right next to your ear, sniffing your hair. You grimaced and trembled as he whispered “Take what you can off of him and I’ll let you see your friend again.” He let you go, shoving you forward towards the new mark. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, flashing images of Faarqa and their blood-curdling scream for help.

  
You inched forward, suddenly shutting off all other thoughts and falling into your survival mode. You were acutely aware of the fact that, at 17, you were at least moderately attractive, and could use that to an advantage. You smoothed the hair out of your face and settled into your game face. There was no other choice but to comply.  
You sauntered over to the stand where the mark was bargaining with the stall owner about some cheap jewelry that had been stolen off of another traveller, mentioning something about “Shitty souvenirs for a shitty planet”. You wander up and poke at some of the jewels, recycling a routine you had done a hundred times. Right on cue, the mark looks over and sucks his teeth. “Well, I didn’t know they had merchandise like this on this sandtrap.” He looks you up and down, lingering too long in uncomfortable places.  
Internally you wince, but externally, you turn to smile at the creep, giving him the up-down and smiling coily.  
“How old are you, girl?” Grem Lento asks, leaning against the table and flipping a metallic bracelet in his hands.

  
“Seventeen, sir.” You reply shyly.

  
“Well, my my my. A young bud yet.” He has a wolf’s smile, gleaming as if he’s just found his prey. He laughs and smiles at the man behind the merchandise stand. “Give me your hand, girl.” He barks, grabbing your right hand. “Let’s see what this pretty piece of Sylanian Silver looks like on your dirty little wrist.” He slams the bracelet around your small wrist and drags your hand down to his crotch. This time you visibly grimace and try to pull away, remembering only at the last second to reach into his pocket while he is distracted.

  
“What? Never felt something like this before? I’ll teach you what it can do.” He pulls harder, sucking his teeth again. You quickly reach in his pocket and grab a large sack of credits, slipping them into your waistband before he blinks. A practiced hand.  
You yank your hand away quickly, leaving him holding the silver bracelet by his crotch. You don’t look back as you sprint away from him, taking the long way back to your destination.  
Klut bursts out a single laugh as you clamber your way through the trading post and throw the sack of credits his way. “Here. I did as you asked. Now please, take me to Faarqa.” You plead.  
“As you wish.” he said, grimly. He grabs your right wrist and leads you down the sandy lane, market tents lining either side. Grim, sand burnt faces turn their backs one by one as you pass through the town. They are all aware of who we are and what we do, and not a single one of them has ever helped us. Your tired, sore legs drag in the sand, as the large Crolute dragged your body next to him, not speaking a word.

  
“Your friend,” He spat as he stopped walking at the tall wooden sign denoting the entrance to the Station “had the wise thought to plan an escape from my humble services. After all I have done for them, they still decide they want to plan an attack on my life. So they paid with theirs.” He slowly turned his amphibious head to look up at the small, skinny body dangling by a rope from the apex of the sign.  
You scream and wretch and fall to your knees. Tears stream down your face as you vomit violently into the sand. Heavy gasps of hot, dry air choke in your throat as you find yourself unable to look again.

_____

You shake your head of the memory as you stand in the shower, letting the warm water cleanse your mind. Once you had set the ship to hyperdrive, you remember silently getting up and coming in here to be alone. Mando didn’t move or acknowledge your leaving.  
You tilted your head up to let the water run off of your face, then looked back down at your inner left forearm and the messy series of numbers and symbols permanently tattooed under your skin. A constant reminder of your past. A constant reminder of your pain.  
You shut the water off and stood for a moment, watching the last of the water circle and drain, thinking about how unnatural showers still felt. And although it had been 10 years since that incident, but the memory of Grem Lento and your poor friend lingered like the sting of a sunburn.

A leathered hand rapped softly on the door, and you hear your named called from the modulated voice on the other side. “Hey, when you have a second, I’d like to chat about something before we land in Canto Bight.” Mando states.  
“Sure, boss. I’ll be right out.” You reply, whipping your long, wet locks around to air-dry them. You could have used the sonic dryer, but you figured the ship needed some more recycled humidity and decided to let your long hair hang. You toss on your go-to long sleeve baselayer and your work pants. You shrug, knowing there is still dirt and grease on these clothes from working on the ship. You slide open the door and see Mando standing somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the cargo hold. You notice and give him a skeptical look with a humorous smile.  
He stays quiet, helmet fixed on you. You see him look at your long wet hair, and immediately you realize that he hasn’t seen your hair like this, and it is probably a little jarring. “I didn’t want to sonic dry my hair, I’m sorry if I look ragged.” You state offering an innocent shrug.

  
Mando makes the slightest coughing sound and clears his throat before squaring his shoulders. “I wanted to give you a run down of what to expect in Canto Bight.” He states flatly. A man of few words gets right to the point.  
“The quarry we are looking for is a gambler who has skipped bail. Son of a rich guy. You know the type.” He shares, unaware of just how well you know the type. Mando reaches into his pocket and pulls out the bounty puck, slamming it on the table like a confident bet. The hologram blinked and stabilized above the puck, the face rotating in a counterclockwise circle. Something about the face made your stomach drop. Your knees gave out slightly and you had to slam your hand on the table for support. Mando looked at you almost knowingly for half a beat before shoving his left arm under your right to bring you back to your feet.

  
“You okay?” He asks, letting his arm linger under yours. You notice his strength, and that his arm feels more stable than the table beneath you. Your hand looks small on his armored forearm.  
You right yourself, looking up at his visor. “Yes, sorry, I must have just whipped my hair back and forth too many times.” You laugh, but inside your stomach is in knots. You do recognize this face.  
“Good.” Mando states, letting his large leather-clad hands return to the table, yet now standing right beside you. He stands closer than he has ever stood, making your heart skip for some reason. You look up at his visor and you can feel your heart pumping. “This,” he points, “is the quarry. Tripp Lento.” Your stomach turns over. This asshole must be the son of Grem Lento, the scumbag from Ba’Aki Station. Mando turns to face you, his statuesque figure towering over even your own above average height. It was rare for a male of most species to tower over you with such height. You typically gave them a run for their money. “This is where I’ll need your help.” he finishes.  
“You need my help collecting a quarry?” You ask, brows furrowing in confusion.

  
“Yes, I do.” He states confidently. Your heart does something funny in your chest again, and you begin wondering if something is wrong with it. Mando leans one elbow on the table, facing you directly. “Canto Bight is the capital city of the Outer Rim planet Cantonica. It’s full of scumbags that like to gamble with more credits that entire populations will see in their lifetimes, and usually at the expense of others. They’re not opposed to oppressing those they see as useful to their lifestyles.” You look down at your hands, breath hitching, yet maintaining control over your emotions that has become a survival instinct.  
“A single Mandalorian walking through a place like that is going to draw unnecessary attention, which is why I need you.” He continues. “We need a way to get into the casinos without drawing much attention, because there is more security there than I can tackle alone. Would you be willing to help?”

  
You nod, raise your chin to look at him squarely and say “Yes, of course I’ll help.” He nods, looking again at the bounty. “What can I do?” you ask.  
“Well, here is what I was thinking--” He begins.


	3. The Casino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOFT smut, fighting, mentions of blood.

Chapter 3: The Casino

_ You stare at your reflection _ in the full length mirror on the backside of the door to the restroom, utterly flabbergasted at your appearance. You hardly recognize yourself. You feel exposed and strangely self conscious in a way you’ve never been before. 

The day before, you had landed in the desert plateau miles away from the city of Canto Bight as the two of you prepared your move. Mando had gone into town and come back with a strangely large, flat box. He jet packed his way up the ramp to the Crest and landed gracefully in stride in the cargo hold, gently setting down the box on top of the table in front of where you were sitting. He stands back, allowing you space, but waiting for you to open the box.

“What is this, Mando?” you ask cautiously, as your fingers begin to flip open the box, revealing a bundle of stunning, black silk fabric. The fabric seemed to reflect colors that weren’t present in the room, the shining black silk reflecting iridescent gold. In the center, atop of the black silk was a perfect, shining gold metal choker. You stare aghast at the Mandalorian, who hasn’t moved, as you pull out this full length gown from the box by the golden choker piece. Your face changes color, but you’re not sure if the blood has left your cheeks or pooled there. You stare at his chrome visor, begging for any kind of explanation silently, because you are  _ truly _ at a loss for words. 

“The patrons that frequent these casinos are high rollers. I can’t pretend to be your private security with you in your mechanic’s clothes.” He states cooly, crossing his hands in front of him confidently. Your eyes follow the curvature of his shoulder protection, down the length of his bicep, which despite the thick black fabric, seems to jut out. His thick forearms clad in the same chrome armor, but now you see muscles flexing under the fabric that you never seemed to notice before. Again, your heart flips a little looking at your new “security detail”.

You stare at the person in the mirror and see that she has an attractive figure. The black silk gently hugs each curve of your body, the high halter neckline held to your body by the golden collar. You stick your right leg out, noticing the alarmingly high cut slit in the fabric. The heels were as uncomfortable as they looked, but the black velvet shoes complemented the look. You stare at your face one last time, breathing in bravery as you adjust the high, braided ponytail that trailed down your back. You held out your left arm, noticing the one flaw in the disguise: the sheer, unmissable visibility of your slave tattoo. You take another breath and open the door to the cargo hold to the warm air seeping in through the open ramp. 

Your “security detail” seems to have spruced himself up too. From behind, his cape looks cleaner than it has since you met him. His beskar now shines, no longer impeded by the grime of the bounty hunter life. He turns slowly and you steel yourself for his critique. 

He looks your way and he seems to cough under his helmet, his hands flexing and balling into tight fists until he finally holds them in front of him again. You lift your shoulders in a slight shrug. “Well, will this work?” you ask, smoothing out any wrinkles in the smooth fabric.

He takes a moment, quickly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, then standing still to look you up and down. You feel vulnerable in a way you’ve never been: exposed, but excited. Your cheeks grow red with blood. 

He stops to look at your forearm, noticing the same design flaw you had: your tattoo. He turns on his heel to walk over to the locker where he kept old comms equipment. Some of it in there worked, some worked partly, and some was junk. You wondered what he was grabbing and why he hadn’t said anything yet. The man of few words frustrating you with such silence. 

He pulls out a bronze communication brace. It wasn’t gold, like the collar on your halter dress, or the reflecting shine in the black fabric, but it was something to hide your tattoo. He brought the comms brace to the table, flipped open the panel to the wiring, and made some quick soldering adjustments. The panel flipped closed and he punched in a security code bypassing the arbitrary security. You nodded in understanding. He had just rewired a hunk of junk metal arm brace to be a working comms device between the two of you. 

Mando reaches over and gently grasps your left wrist, gingerly slipping the brace on your forearm. “I didn’t think--I didn’t realize this might be difficult for you, given- given your past.” He stutters. The man of few words stutters, imagine that. You watch as he presses a button to seal the comms brace to your arm. It covers almost your entire forearm from elbow almost to wrist.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help you, Mando. You know that.” He gets up, looking at you again, and offers a hand to help you stand. His iron grip sturdy yet gentle. “Now how are we going to get down to the casino?” You ask, looking around at the rusty hull. 

“Already thought of that.” He states, nodding towards the open ramp. A land speeder waits outside the ship, sitting idle, awaiting its passengers. Mando ushers you outside towards the speeder, gently guiding you towards it with a hand on the small of your back. Painfully, as soon as he touches you he releases, but you can feel the warmth of his hand linger like static electricity.

You stand next to the speeder as the Mandalorian takes the Crest high in the sky and parks it hovering hundreds of feet above your head. That would keep the child safe until we return. A small figure jet packs out of the ramp entrance and lands rapidly with a  _ thud,  _ a plume of dry earth billowing from under his boots. He promptly runs to the side of the speeder and assists you as you get in. As you sit, you nod at him, knowing it is time again to put on your game face. One you have not worn in months. 

_____

The two of you approach a shiny white and gold building with hundreds of equally shiny, well-dressed people in the streets. You look over at Mando driving the speeder, and he looks back at you with a short nod. On the way into the city from the ship, you had gone over the plan again. You were to act as if you owned the place, walking through the crowds in the casino to the back of the establishment and stand at the bar. Mando would be on your coat tails acting as your “security detail”. The act wouldn’t be difficult, you thought, since you were so used to this routine during your slavery. You steel yourself with a deep breath, nod at the Mandalorian and settle into your act. Internally, a wall appears between your true self and the character you are portraying. 

Mando pulls the speeder up to the stairs and quickly gets out to help you out. You offer your hand and he takes it, stroking his gloved thumb once over the top of your knuckles as you stand up. A chip in your internal wall appears.

You stand, chin high, and admire the massive structure around you as Mando valets the speeder, which was stolen from the valet to begin with. The casino is a large, tiered, dome-roofed structure with golden light emitting from the high windows. It felt alive as it rang out with music, laughter, and species of all kinds having highball conversations. It smelled of expensive perfumes and musks mixed with the stinging scent of alcohol. SE8 waiter droids in their shining black metal walked around the plaza with plates of shimmering cocktails in tall bronze glasses. 

The Mandalorian touches the small of your back again, ushering you ahead and letting you know he is right behind you. While you still feel exposed and out of place, you feel safe in his presence, protected. The chip in your wall grows that much larger.

You start sauntering your way up the stairs and through the massive doors. Mando was right about security. Two large Imperial-style sentry droids stood on either side of the main door, scanning and sizing up any entrant. You gave the droid on the left a “you’re wasting my time” stare as you and your security detail passed through the door. You walk into a room with various gambling tables surrounded by all creatures and creeds. Cheering came from the table to your right where someone apparently has won the pot of a game involving dice. Your heels click loudly on the stone floor making you feel powerful. You walk in time with the bassy music coming from the DJ stand in the far left corner. You walk with an unamused frown plastered to your face, looking around at everyone over the brim of your thin nose. You’re consciously aware of how your body moves in this dress. Each hip throwing your weight from side to side with each step. You feel sexy for the first time in your life, but you remember that this is just your character. A few patrons in the area stop what they are doing to watch you walk your way through the casino floor. You only make eye contact for a moment, maintaining the same unamused frown. 

You take a quick glance behind you to locate your security detail and notice the Mandalorian’s helmet quickly adjust his gaze back up to eye level. You whip your head back around and realize he was watching you walk. Warmth floods between your legs, and I’m your eyes spring wide open for a second.  _ There is no way,  _ you think as you continue your trek. Another, large crack forms in the wall between you and your character.

You shake your head very slightly, tip your chin up higher and take long, powerful steps as you make your way to the back bar. 

Your true self is subtly aware that since you noticed him watching, at least you think that’s what he was doing, your gait has become more dramatic. Now, the true you is peeking through the crack in the wall, almost hoping your counterpart behind you notices. 

_ Not now. Focus. _ Your hips sway back and forth, more aware of it than ever. You straighten your spine, knowing your back muscles are exposed behind you. Your long lean figure feels like it’s floating over the stone floor. Without missing a step, you grab a tall cocktail glass off of the tray held out by the SE8 unit on your right and drink it gracefully as you close the distance to the bar. 

The round bar is in a dimly lit room at the back of the casino. The golden bar top reflects what little light there is. Dark velvet booths and tables are scattered around the room. Creatures of all species and all genders walk around, obviously aware of their good looks. Candles on each table offer a dim glow in the darkest parts of the bar. You locate a small, two seater open table in the back right corner of the bar. This positions you perfectly to be able to see the whole room and all entrances, while keeping your backs protected from any illwishers. You extend your long, lean, exposed arm and order your security detail to the table, which he follows unquestioningly. 

The  _ power _ you feel directing the strongest person you’ve ever met and him  _ listening _ . A girl could get used to this. You approach the bar and lean your forearms on the bartop, leaning your long torso forward and cocking your right leg out of the slit in your dress. You shoot a quick look at your security and watch as he sits with his back to the wall, helmet trained on you the whole time. Crack. 

_ He should be scanning the room right now.  _ You think. Maybe he is. Maybe that fancy bucket he has on his head allows him to see more than you initially thought. You press your chest forward and await the bartender’s attention.

_ _ _

The Mandalorian let out the breath he had been holding watching her walk, no  _ float _ , her way in here. He was normally able to turn off all human influences when he was on a job. He normally wouldn’t get so distracted, especially with this high value of a quarry. But  _ fuck _ if there wasn’t something so intoxicating watching her tall, lean figure saunter through this shithole like she owns it.

He had stolen that dress out of the back seat of a luxury speeder while the rightful owner whined and fought with her unfortunate assistant. He had watched as the woman bought the dress, and hoped to the stars it would fit her. He just didn’t know it would fit her  _ this _ well. 

_ Get it together, Din. You have a job to do and she isn’t safe here.  _ Without moving, he shook himself out of it. His visor picked up the thermal signatures of each bar-goer here. Forty seven red and yellow thermal figures registered in his visor in this room alone. He noticed that, in many of the patrons here, heat pooled in their crotches, clearly all horny for one another. When she walked in the room, several men turned their heads to watch her make her way to the bar. He fought the urge to growl at them. She seemed unaware.  _ She’s good. _ Din thought, again turning his attention to her long figure leaning on the bar.

Under his visor, his eyes widened and all of his muscles went rigid at what he saw. Her thermal signature was the same as everyone else in here...heat pooling between her legs. She looked over at him quickly, her high cheekbones glowing under the dim golden light. Heat poured in her body and he gulped. His breath hitched and he felt heat pouring to his own center. He adjusted his cape to fall over his lap as he pretended to move his head “scanning the room”.  _ No, I actually need to scan the room. She is still not safe here.  _

Finally, after an insultingly long time, the bartender gave her a tall glass of some sparkling drink. She slid a gold credit his way and winked at him. Din growled.  _ She is a pro at this. It seems second nature. _ He watched her body as she made her way to him. Her hips swung from side to side, and her breasts gently bounced with each step. The silk of the dress highlighting each curve in her body, the high neckline showing off her muscular shoulders and collarbones. Her eyes were plastered on him the entire time and he felt high.  _ There is no way. _ He thought, getting up to pull her seat out for her. The candle on the table danced as her dress stirred the air around her. “Thank you.” She cooed as she sat and crossed her lean legs, sipping the sparkling drink. He scanned the room one more time. Too many faces, and too many men looking at her. He made a point to stare each one down before returning to his seat. Not a single one of them would dare try a Mandalorian. Din sat back down across from her, leaning his forearms on the table, checking the tracking fob in his hands.

“He’s in the building, but not in this room.” He states cooly, turning his helmet towards the door. “Intel I received from a friend said he likes to finish his nights in here with potential-- prospects.” He turned to look again at her, who’s big eyes were looking directly at him. He knew that she couldn’t see his eyes, but she seemed to be looking at them dead on. He swallowed. “So we might be here a while, if you’re comfortable.”

She took a long sip of her drink and nodded, pleased. “Yeah, I’m okay. So long as these things are on tap, I’m good.” sipping the shimmering liquid again. She set the glass down and leaned towards him, just as she did at the bar. The small table not offering much space between the two of them, and yet she didn’t seem to mind.

“So, “ she starts, tracing her fingers along the base of the glass mindlessly. “How do you pick out a potential threat in a room?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder back at the room. 

He breathes. “Well, a lot of it is reading body language. You can tell a lot about a person by how they carry themselves and where their eyes are in conversation.” He starts. “Take for example that guy at the bar next to the woman with the blue hair.” He nods his direction and she turns to look. “He obviously is not having a great time talking to her.”

“How can you tell?” She whips her head back around, long braid swinging back around her back.

He nods again at the pair. “She is standing square to him. His shoulders are facing out to the open room. It’s saying ‘I’m open to a different conversation’ even if he doesn’t realize it himself. He doesn’t look at her when she talks, while she can’t keep her eyes off of him.”

“So that makes him a threat?” She asks, again looking directly at him somehow finding his eyes without knowing they’re there. 

“No, but finding a threat in the room involves reading the bodies of those around you.” He looks at her, but keeps his periphery synthesizer on to watch the people around her. He felt a pang of guilt using her to help bring in this quarry, especially given that she was oppressed by those  _ assholes  _ on Tar-V1. He shook his head, releasing his mind of the heartbreaking thought.  _ Now is not the time to get angry, Din. She still doesn’t even realize that you were there for her. _ He thought, remember the bounty puck tucked under his cot with her hologram programmed in it. He didn’t know who had put that bounty on her, but he would protect her from whoever it was with everything in him. All he knew was, she didn’t deserve it. She was too important now.

He watched as she took another sip of her drink, setting it down gracefully in front of her, leaning her weight on her forearms on the table. Din’s heart thudded in his chest. For the first time in his life, he felt obliged to hold a conversation. It was the strangest combination of feeling rude, which he normally didn’t mind being, and growing increasingly more curious about this girl.

The benefit of the helmet came into play as he angled his head towards the room but used the privacy of the visor to keep his eyes on her. 

The small white candle in the glass jar between then casting glowing light over her features, softening her face in some places, highlighting her strong bone structure in others. 

The light glimmering in her eyes was magnetic. His brows furrowed under his helmet, frustrated with himself that he was getting so distracted and yet so hypnotized by this girl.  _ She’s just a girl. It’s just a dress.  _ He tried to convince himself. 

“Are- are you feeling better from earlier today?” He asked, feeling uncomfortable initiating conversation. She cocked her head to the side, not understanding at first and then dropping and nodding her head. 

“Yeah,” she started, shaking her head at her drink “I guess— well, I guess I just reacted to hearing where this quarry was.” Mando sat still as stone, confused, but listening. “I had heard of Canto Bight before we came here.” Her thumbs fiddled with the tall glass in front of her, and Din could tell she was guarding herself. “My past—I don’t—where I come from, I had to do what I could to survive.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, trying to be a comforting presence, but knowing that he probably looked like an idiot instead. He felt strange. He doesn’t  _ care  _ about other people, with the exception of his son and very few others. But for whatever reason, he wanted to learn about this girl sitting opposite him. The Mandalorian part of him, which always has seemed like the bigger portion, is squirming uncomfortably knowing he is currently working a job; the man part of him though can’t get enough of her voice. 

“I was born on Tar-V1, where I commandeered your ship,” she continued, smiling, “but I wasn’t born in Ba’Aki Station 12. I was raised by my Unclo Taru in a small mining town on the other side of that shithole moon.” She looked up though her eyebrows, her head down almost in shame. As if she had anything to be ashamed of. Din sat still, hanging on every word, silently willing her to continue. “When I was ten, a mob of slavers aided by paid off Sand People raided our little town of Kyyba. They killed every adult and captured every child. Before I knew it, I had ink on my arm and my home was a cage that wasn’t even big enough for a jawa.” Her eyes had dimmed, as if she wasn’t consciously telling her story. She was staring, unblinking at her hands. He felt compelled to reach out and hold them, but only got as far as setting his hands flat on the table. “The slavers were traders, and forced us to pickpocket from the travellers passing through the Station. Our survival was based on if we could eat, and we only ate if we brought in credits.” This time she looks and Din right in his eyes, magically finding them once again. “A girl learns quickly to shut down and put on an act. You dissociate from your true self to survive.” She shakes her head, bringing herself back to the present. “One of the more--memorable--characters I encountered was from Canto Bight.”  _ Brave  _ was the only word that came to his mind hearing this. His heart was breaking for her and he felt absolutely disgusted to his core. 

Not only had she survived the unimaginable, but she had come out of it a truly incredible person; selfless, strong, kind to the core. And here  _ he  _ was essentially inflicting the same trauma on her again. When he said that he knew it would be hard for her to go through with this, he had assumed it would be because of all of the poor folks here working here under oppressive power...not because it almost mirrored her trauma exactly. He hated himself in that moment. All he wanted to do was sweep her up and take her out of here...show her the galaxy’s beauty instead of the horrific things he had shown her. “I--I am so sorry.” He says her name softly. “I had no idea that is what you went through. And--and now you’re here. I’m so sorry.” He shifts, getting ready to stand up before a slim, gentle hand falls on his.

“Mando, I didn’t tell you this because I wanted to guilt you.” Her hand squeezes his and he slowly sits back down, watching her the entire time. She offers a reassuring smile. “I told you because I wanted you to know. You’ve known where I came from all these months and you’ve never asked. But I want you to know. I want you to know  _ me. _ ” She states, not removing her hand.

  
  


A little while later, she downed the last of her drink, regaining the grace of the high roller she was playing. Din sat back in his seat, flabbergasted and fascinated by the girl in front of him, and wondering when this scumbag quarry would show his ugly face. She stood, her long black dress falling down her figure like liquid, offering a tantalizing peek of her leg through the slit in her right leg. His breath hitched again though he dare not move. She turned to walk again towards the bar, the black silk tumbling town like a waterfall highlighting her perfect figure, even from behind. 

As if by all luck, just as she stood and took her first step towards the bar, the quarry made his way loudly through the door, some credit-digging prospect on his arm. “--nd then the Rancor ran off, obviously terrified!” Lento bragged, stumbling his way through the door. Lento looked over at the girl and was just as starstruck as the other men Din had to scare off. His thermal signature was a tell-all. The sick bastard shamelessly gave her the whole up-down, lingering at her tits. She looked over and recognized the quarry, her spine going rigid in a split second.  _ Shit. _ The glass slipped through her long fingers and crashed through the floor in an explosion of shards. Din jumped up and was at her side a quarter-second later. “I’m here.” he whispered. Her heart rate was skyrocketing, and the hand he held in his was trembling. . 

She gasped just slightly, then whispered “Go with it.” as she broke into a giggle and lost balance.  _ What is she doing?!  _ “I t-told you,” she pointed at his breastplate, slurring her words as she spoke, “to get me another drink, you womprat.” She faked falling over again, but he righted her, coming to the realization. 

“You’re good.” he whispered, before letting her stand on her own. She winked at him, and turned back around to the quarry. His body went rigid, ready to pounce if needed.

_ _ _

  
  


You turn around, pretending to trip over your dress, and make eye contact with Tripp Lento.  _ My stars if he doesn’t look like-- _ . You don’t finish the thought, but instead turn on your charm and wiggle your finger at him. Like a fish on a line, Lento is reeled in, shoving aside the poor girl already on his arm. Little does she know that you’re probably saving her. 

You touch your finger to his sternum and wrap your other hand up in his greased-back black hair, leg cocked up around his. “You look like you want to buy me a drink.” you state, letting your finger drag down his chest. 

“You name it, it’s yours, girl.” He hisses, grabbing your ass. The internal wall you had been building to protect yourself from this had cracked over the last hour as you and Mando sat and talked. His body so close to yours at that small table sent your body into a fever. Each time he touched you, even with gloved hands and all in an act, the heat of his hands lingered. In your mind, you reached back for him to save you from this situation and take you somewhere safe, but in reality, you maintained the act.

You swayed your way up to the bar again, this time with Lento’s hand resting firmly on your asscheek. Unashamed. You copped one last look at Mando for mental safety, who was looking like a grenade about to go off. Every inch of him tense and his breathing was so heavy it moved his breastplate around. Your eyes must have given away your fear because he stormed his way up next to you. 

“Don’t mind my security detail, darling. He can get a little hot headed sometimes.” You state, placing a hand on Mando’s bicep, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“That’s alright, I’m used to mindless sentries following me around, too.” Lento looks over at the two massive creatures standing by the doorway, and you’re unsure if you’ve seen a species like that before. Their fists were bigger than your head and it looked like their skin was covered in plates or large scales. “Can’t be too careful these days.” He hands you a drink and you pretend to take a sip. You won’t let a drink that’s probably drugged touch your tongue. You squeeze Mando’s bicep one more time before letting go and squaring your shoulders to Lento. 

“Amen to that!” you say, cheersing your untouched drink. “But luckily, this guy doesn’t follow me to bed at night.” you say, pretending to take another sip. 

Lento raises an eyebrow and drops his gaze to your chest. “Oh yeah? And who does?” he asks, spanking your ass.

You fake a hiccup. “That depends where the bed is.” You lean in closer to the quarry. You are no longer yourself. The wall, albeit cracked, stands firm. You are not here, but  _ she  _ is.  _ She  _ can handle the situation. All  _ you  _ want to do is run back to Mando. “Where is yours?” you state setting the bright blue cocktail down on the bartop. Lento smiles something sinister and you feel your stomach drop. 

You hang on the left arm of Tripp Lento, stumbling every so often, holding your beautiful dress carelessly in one hand. He is leading you out of the casino, and at this point you only  _ think _ you know what the plan is. You assume you’ll lead this guy to his car where Mando will swoop in and save the day. 

Tripp leads you out the door and down the steps, but seems to be leading you away from the valet and towards a dark part of town that you’re unfamiliar with. You glance back at Mando who is stuck behind the two sentries, maintaining a distance ordered by Tripp. Your heart rate climbs. Tripp quickly drags you around the nearest corner, cutting you off from the view of his sentries and your security. 

He shoves you down a dark alley and slams you into the stone wall, crushing the communicator on your left arm. “You think I don’t know what this is, bitch?” he screams. You stagger to your feet, kicking off your heels, turning around quickly. “You think I don’t realize that  _ that _ tin can motherfucker is out for my bounty?” He shoves a finger in the direction you came from. “You stupid bitch. You thought you could fool me. I’m Tripp fucking Lento. I don’t get fooled.” He beats a fist on his chest with each syllable. Blood pours from your forehead and the wall you built comes crashing down.

You center your body weight on your left foot and front-kick your right directly into his sternum. Tripp falls backwards against the wall but gets up and throws a heavy haymaker that lands on your brow bone sending your vision into stars. Your ears ring but you aren’t going to let that or your vision get in the way of your survival. 

“I got a joke for you, whore.” Lento circles you, keeping a sharp eye on your movements as you brace against the stone wall and stand firmly on your bare feet. “A Mandalorian and his slut walk into a bar…” He swings a haymaker with his right, but you read it quickly and duck, landing an uppercut under his jaw. He stumbles back, head raised from the hit, and you again plant a front kick in his sternum, this time putting all of your weight behind it. His body concaves as air bursts from his lungs in heavy gasps. While he’s vulnerable, you hike up your left knee for momentum lifting your body off of the ground and roundhouse kick his jaw. 

Lento stumbles back several feet, out of range of your attacks. He holds his jaw and scrambles backwards away from you. “What do you think my sentries are doing with your boyfriend right now, bitch? I like to think they’re crushing him into a tin can.” You stop, suddenly reminded that Mando is in danger too. You turn around and run back towards the entrance where you last saw him stuck behind the sentries. Fuck Lento. We can find him later, right now Mando was in danger and needed you. You ran up to the doors, bare feet skidding to a stop, causing gasps from the crowds around you.  _ Fuck.  _ You think. He is nowhere to be seen. You look around frantically, eyes scanning any face, looking for any sign of him or the monsters that took him. You hear a monster scream from the distance. Any sound other than that of dice and high ball laughter is unnatural, and  _ must  _ be where to look. 

You sprint towards the sound, your bare feet propelling you forward as fast as they’ll carry you. You push through the crowds of people walking towards the casino and grunt in frustration each time your shoulder clips someone.  _ I’m coming, Mando. Just hold on. I’m coming. _ You fly down the stairs as fast as you can, balls of your feet barely touching the ground. You hear another scream and the sound of one of Mando’s Whistling Bird’s. You reach the corner closest to the yacht valet and make a hard right, looking down every alley. You hear the sound of a struggle close by and you take off towards the sound. Your foot pads are bruised and your legs are burning with lactic acid. Your lungs scream for air but you push on. 

You finally round a dark corner to see Mando pinned against the stone wall by one of the sentries as another scrambles back to its feet. Mando’s Whistling Bird arm is pinned above his head and the other is trying to pry the incredibly large hand off of his neck. He gasps for air. Your heart sinks, but you’re ready. You sprint forward towards the sentry righting himself and slide towards him. In the flash of a second you wrap your right leg around its throat and choke him, dodging large hands reaching back for you. It’s enough to distract the other sentry pinning Mando for one moment as it turns with an unintelligent “Huh?”. Mando kicks the sentry’s groin which causes him to release his Whistling Bird arm. Mando shoves a blaster your way and you scramble to grab it, momentarily releasing the sentry in your clutches. You turn on your knee, one knee down to the ground and shoot a single shot landing on the sentry’s left collarbone. It does nothing. Your eyes widen in fear remembering the armor plating built into the creature’s skin.

You look at Mando who activates his jet pack, dragging the sentry on his neck up into the sky. You watch them for a moment as they disappear into a tiny glowing dot before hovering above your head. Then you hear it...a baritone scream getting louder and louder as the sentry falls and lands with a hideous  _ squelch _ atop the building behind you.

The sentry in front of you lunges towards you and wraps both massive hands around your neck. You immediately feel the crushing pressure on your windpipe. Blackness closes in and stars blink in your vision as you open your mouth in a futile attempt to gasp for air or scream for Mando. You look down at the ugly sentry crushing your windpipe. His small, reptilian eyes filled with hate and anger, his rough scaly skin coarse on your own. Quick memories flash through your mind’s eye, Faarqa’s kind face, the smile of the child, Mando. You kick with every ounce of energy in you at the monster holding you down. A single tear falls from your left eye and you gasp again for breath. Your body becomes weak and the useless punches you land become even moreso. You become still.

Mando rockets his jetpack the speed of sound into the tender exposed side of the remaining sentry, pulling him off of you as you gasp and cough. He rockets the beast through several walls of the stone buildings around you, sounding a visceral roar as the beast’s body disintegrates the stone around it. He again skyrockets towards the sky with the sentry as you instinctively clutch your throat, massaging away the inevitable bruise.

Before a moment, the sentry’s body lands next to his comrade in a hard  _ thunk _ . Mando races down to you landing an inch from you, quickly running his hands over you looking for mortal wounds. “I’m fine, I’m--” you swallow what feels like a rock as he touches a leather glove to your bleeding head wound. You had almost forgotten about it.

Without saying a word, he sweeps you up, arms under your knees and arms and rockets off away from the city. You watch as the city grows smaller and the lights grow dimmer, thankful to be out of there. The windspeed of your flight whipping your braid around over Mando’s left shoulder. You look up at his visor, incredibly grateful, and horribly sorry. You were so close to locking down the quarry. You feel as though you blew it, but you’re also grateful to be alive. 

You land in an area of the plateau covered with high grass, overlooking the sea. The sounds of the wind and water are a comforting change from the sounds of glasses and dice rolls. He lays you down, but you prop yourself up to lean back on your hands. “Mando, truly, I’ll be okay. You’re the one that was pinned to a wall by the--”

“Did he do this.” He interrupts. You close your mouth, taken aback.

“Well, yes, but-”

“I’m going to rip him apart when I find him.” He stands up as if getting ready to take off again before you grab ahold of his hand. 

“Mando, please.” You look up, pleading. “Please.” You drop your head in shame. “Mando, I’m sorry. I thought I had him in the bag. It’s my fault we got into this mess. I should have--” You choke, your voice still hoarse. He kneels down slowly in front of you, helmet locked on your face. A gloved thumb wipes the dripping blood from your temple. 

“None of this,” he starts “ _ none _ of this is your fault. I am so sorry for putting you in danger. I never should have brought you here, especially with your past. I should have walked us both out of there the moment you opened up. I am so sorry.” His helmeted head droops.

After the story you felt compelled to tell earlier, you can only imagine that he is eating himself up right now. That is the last thing you intended. “Mando,” you breathe a quick laugh. “I felt more powerful and strong tonight than I’ve felt in a long time. I was able to take  _ revenge _ out on a person who deserved it, and  _ thankfully _ you were there to get me out of there when it went south. You gave me the means to redeem myself.” You go to stand up, and he’s there in an instant, steadying you. “Thank you,” you state. “Thank you for bringing me along and backing me up when I needed the strength.”

He just shakes his head. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?” He asks, firing up the engines on the jetpack. You nod, gingerly wrapping both arms around his shoulders as he grips you in close and slowly rockets towards the sky.


	4. The Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT. Cold, hard, smut. and Fluff.

Chapter 4: The Change

_ After Canto Bight _ , Mando had flown the ship to a small moon with rolling hills covered in tall golden grass speckled with cobalt blue flowers. The sky was overcast with a soft grey, making it easier on the eyes than the blinding sand of Tar-V1 or the lights in Canto Bight. The ship was parked in the middle of this strange prairie next to a gently flowing stream. Everything about this place was gentle, which is why you figured Mando had chosen it as a place to recover for a few days. This moon, P’li, was only inhabited by a peaceful native species, the Skee. They were a short, thin species with teal skin that made their homes out of the river mud and decorated them with the cobalt flowers. The placid people were a spiritual bunch, too. Aside from their mud homes, the only other structure in their small encampment was a beautiful conical building made of stacked, spiralling cream-colored pearlescent rock from the nearby hills. The structure was a place of worship, where each dawn the Skee would go to center themselves before the day. 

You’ve never been a spiritual person, but the idea of belief in something peaceful and powerful brought you a sense of tranquility that was hard to deny. You looked over at the foot of the nearby hills at the small encampment as the Skee worked the land, fished the river, and collected flowers, a smile spread across your face. Next to you on the bank of the stream, the child chased around a group of tadpole-like creatures while you reeled in wooden fishing basket filled with small fish. 

Almost a moment after landing on this patch of ground two days ago, a small group of Skee came over, offering food, flowers, and a fishing basket. The Mandolorian had attempted to give them credits for their kindness, but they refused. There was no where to spend the credits anyway. The communication between you and the Skee was trivial and simple, because neither one of you could understand the other’s language, but the kindness was not lost on you.

You stood, petting the ear of the child before walking over towards the Mandalorian working on the ship. He had been moving slowly since leaving Canto Bight and you couldn’t help but wonder why. 

“I’ll start putting on some dinner, if you’re hungry.” You offer, gesturing to the small collection of fish in the basket on your hip. 

“That’s alright, thank you.” He replies cooly, not turning to look at you. He had been more distant since you left Cantonica, making you wonder if he was more angry about losing the quarry than he said he was. “We’ll have to leave here tonight. I have to drop off the quarries I have to Karga by the end of the week and we’re about that long’s hyperflight away from Nevarro.”

You nod.  _ He must still be angry.  _ You think, kneeling down to empty the fishing basket next to the fire. “I’ll go return this basket to the Skee. The kid is down by the stream bank, if you don’t mind keeping an eye on him.” You stand and turn, getting ready to walk the half mile or so to the Skee encampment, wishing you had something to offer them, before an idea sparks.

You walk next to the stream, bare feet splashing in the cool, shallow water, the fishing basket on one hip, your free hand holding the golden collar from your dress. In your struggles in Canto Bight, the dress had been virtually destroyed, but the collar might make a nice thank you gift to the natives. As you get closer to the village of about ten houses, a half dozen tiny skee children run out to greet you, running in circles around you as you walked. You laughed, thinking of how much they reminded you of the kid: carefree and silly. 

You enter the encampment, bowing to their shaman and returning the basket to the young mother who had handed it to you days ago. Though you can’t understand her, you think the sound she made meant “thank you”. You turn to the shaman with his cylindrical hat upon his head, and offer the gold collar with one hand, placing the other on your heart with gratitude. He made a gasping noise and slowly grasped the collar from your hand. You smile, hoping they understood how thankful you were for their help and generosity.

The leader clutched your hand and led you into the pearly, conical structure of worship, ducking through the entrance that was several feet shorter than you were. Several Skee followed. Inside, you look around, your mouth falling open in awe at the sight. These pearly stones that seemed opaque from the outside were translucent inside, casting rainbows as the beams of sunlight shone through the opalescent rock. The floor was covered in a thick blanket of cobalt blue flowers, feeling soft as cotton under your bare feet. The shaman placed the collar on the altar, encircling a single flickering candle. You smiled happily knowing that this small token would be appreciated in their most sacred space. The leader ushered you to kneel down, and you obliged, noting how the rainbows in the room looked on the bright blue floor. He walked behind the altar and grabbed a wooden box, slowly opening it in front of you. You smile, seeing a tiara made of the same blue flowers. With his small teal hands, the leader places the tiara on your head, covering the small scar from your scrap in Canto Bight, hugging you goodbye.  _ I wish I could stay here too, man. _ You think, slowly standing and ducking out of the doorway again. 

The light in the sky was dimming as you waved your goodbyes to the Skee and headed back to the Razor Crest, holding that kindness in your heart.

The three of you finished the fish you had cooked in silence, some faster than others. It really was incredible how quickly and how  _ much _ that little green pea could eat. As you looked around the campsite one last time, you heard the sound of laughing and a wooden wind instrument playing a happy tune. You glanced over at the Skee village, seeing shadows of people dancing around a fire and smiling in their direction. You took a deep, cleansing breath as you looked at the exterior of the Razor Crest one more time before walking up the ramp and watching it close in front of you. 

The silence was piercing as you climbed into the navigation seat just behind the Mandalorian who hadn’t even reacted to your presence. You punched in the coordinates, sending control back to his panel, readying yourself for takeoff. The ship purred to life, seemingly thankful as well for the few days rest. Mando’s helmet turned just slightly to look at you out of the corner of his eye before flying above the village, allowing you to wave one last time at the kind creatures below. 

_ _ _

Din smiled softly under his helmet as she waved at her newfound friends. He knew he wasn’t being the best crewmate recently, but he was eating himself up inside for putting her in the situation he did days ago. It had finally clicked for him just  _ why _ she was so good at putting on the act she had in Canto Bight. She was forced to do the same thing as a slave and he had made her relive that _.  _ And on  _ top  _ of that, he had put her  _ life _ in danger. She may have said that she felt stronger having confronted an asshole like Lento, but he just could not forgive himself for putting her in that situation. 

These past three days, she has soaked up the recuperation; getting to know the locals, fishing in the stream, walking gracefully as she did through the flowers around her. He spent the time stewing.

She sat down in the navigation seat behind him to his right and watched in his periphery as she took off the flower tiara she had been wearing to study it. 

“Did you make that?” He asked, trying to make conversation as he opened the thrusters to push through the atmosphere.

“Uh, no.” She replied, seemingly startled by the sound of his voice. He clenched his jaw. He knew he was making her uncomfortable but he just could not stop. “The shaman gave it to me when I went to return their fishing basket.” She didn’t look up. He punched the Crest into hyperdrive and spun his chair around to face her. 

“It’s beautiful.” He started. If he was going to remedy the situation, he knew he had to start being kinder and making conversation. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable enough that she would quit this job and leave. It hardly felt like he was employing her anymore. She had become so important so quickly. Plus the kid adored her. “May I see it?” He asked, reaching out his gloved right hand. 

“Sure!” She offered, setting the crown gently down in his palm. He took off his left glove to feel the flowers themselves, acutely uncomfortable at his skin showing. She seemed a little shocked too, looking up at him with concern in her eyes. He smiled under his helmet and went to place the flower crown atop the head of the kid sleeping in the pod next to them. She smiled widely, and he couldn’t help but let loose a laugh when the crown was suspended inches above his little bald head by his massive ears. She reached over to adjust the blankets covering the child up and closed the shield to allow him to sleep.

Din leaned forward, placing his forearms on his quads, hanging his head for a moment and taking a steadying breath. “I want to apologize for how I’ve been acting--how I’ve been treating you these past few days.” He looked up and met her eyes. “I-I’m having a hard time.” He admitted, the man in him overtaking the Mandalorian. “I’m having a hard time knowing what I put you through back there.” He took off his other glove and wrung them in his hands, needing a mental distraction to keep himself from clamming up again.

“Is  _ that _ why you’ve been quiet these past couple days?” she asked, alarmed. He sat silently, helmet trained on her, watching the emotions cross her face before finally settling in a reassuring smile. “Mando we’ve already discussed this. Stars, I thought you were angry with me for losing the quarry!” She laughed a breathy laugh and slouched back in her seat. 

“No, stars no.” He shook his head.  _ Angry with her?  _ He could never.

“Well now I know you’re going to be short with Karga when we get to Nevarro. I feel kind of responsible for that.” She replied.

Mando shook his head again, sitting up straight at the edge of his seat to face her. “That was  _ not _ your fault. It was mine.” He again put his forearms on his quads, as close to her as he could reasonably get. “Seeing you hurt,” he nodded his chin towards the fresh, but healing scar on her forehead, “that--that wrecked me.” Everything about opening up was uncomfortable and irregular for him, but she made him want to be honest. “I don’t ever want that to happen again.” He stated flatly. 

She snorted a laugh through her nose and the corners of her mouth pulled into a shy smile. He fixated on her. He had to be honest with himself. Having her around these past several months have been more enjoyable than ever before. She looked up at him with kind, gentle eyes. “Come on, I’ll play you in a round of Dejarik while green bean sleeps.”

His eyes glued on her as she seemed to blush, making her way back downstairs. 

_ _ _

You sit down at the small table in the cargo hold, watching the metal man lower down the ladder. You bite your lip as his biceps flex controlling his descent. _This man._ You think, subtly shaking your head, still shocked by the fact that this seemingly stone-faced emotionless man had been stewing for days because he thought he had caused you pain or discomfort. The fact that he was thinking about you at all made your heart flip. He jumped down the last couple rungs and landed with a heavy thud, standing up and facing you directly, spine straight. Warmth flooded your center and heat rose to your cheeks. You prayed that his visor couldn’t see what your body or breath was doing. He slid into the booth seat to your left and wondered if he realized his armored knee was touching yours. You had been literally hanging on him days ago when he flew you out of Canto Bight (and you haven’t stopped thinking about it since), but this willing proximity now was really making you breathe hard. Wetness flooded between your legs as he reached to your side of the table, inches from your breasts to switch on the holograms. 

“You know I’ve never been beaten in this game.” He said confidently, leaning on the table with his visor on you. My stars your heart was beating. 

“Well then you’ll have to get used to losing.” you state, reaching over between his arms to set the board. Your cheeks warmed and you hoped for the second time that he couldn’t see it through that bucket on his head. You set up your pieces, positioning your favorite, the Grimtaash in your go-to spot since you rolled to go first.

“Interesting choice of a leading piece,” he coos, setting up his first move, the Mantellian Savrip for an attack. “I prefer something with a little more oomph.” You can almost hear the smile in his words. The Mantellian Savrip is a powerful Dejarik piece with a lot of health and a heavy attack, unlike your Grimtaash with less than half the health and attack power. But the unsung advantage of the Grimtaash was the range. Who needed the health when you could steadily deliver blows from afar without ever being touched?

And that’s just what you did. 

He may have had the advantage of strength and health in the pieces he chose, but your quick movements and careful attacks were able to bring down two of his greater pieces to your one. “How the hell did you--” He questioned, breathing out a single laugh under his helmet, shaking his head. You shrug, a tight smile forming across your face. He leaned in, studying the board before making his next move. His forearm touching your hands folded on the table. The simple touch felt electric.  _ He probably can’t even feel my hand under all of that heavy material. _ You think, curious about what his motive is. He sits up confidently, and plays his hand: his Ng’ok deals two separate blows on your Kintan Strider and your Grimtaash. But  _ this _ is why you keep your Ghhhk so close to your Grimtaash. The Ghhhk can heal an adjacent piece to full health. You bite your lower lip in concentration as you poise your attack. Your Grimtaash deals a special attack to his Ng’ok, stunning it for two rounds. He sets up his pieces, unfortunately meleeing your Ghhhk to death, but your heavy-hitting Kintan Strider deals a crushing blow to his Ng’ok.

He sat back with a genuine laugh in astonishment, and you did too. Other people might be sore losers, but he seemed amused by it. It was refreshing, and your heart backflipped in your chest. Each minute you sat here, the more comfortable his presence was and the more comfortable he seemed. After the heavy conversations you’ve had over the past week or so, just doing something for fun was cleansing. Mando sat back in his booth seat, resting his elbow atop the back of the booth. If he straightened out his right arm, it would be resting around your shoulders.  _ Do it. Please,  _ you think silently. His broad chest was open wide, unapologetic and comfortable. You’re still watching him when he gestures to the board with his still-ungloved hand encouraging your next move. You chew on your lower lip as you see out of your peripheral vision that his visor is still facing you. He drops his left elbow back to the table, squaring his body to yours, in the process opening up his right arm behind you.

It was such a masculine, dominant move that it threw you off of your game. Your head was swimming and you were absolutely on fire under your clothes. You swallowed and chewed your lip again. It was going to be absolutely raw tonight and you knew it.  _ What game are we playing? Who am I?  _ You still hadn’t made your move when he rested his chin on his left hand in mock impatience. Helmet dialed on you directly. Unashamed. 

That was it. That was the move. The rest of the game went to absolute shit after that and you basically forgot how to play. The sheer masculinity. The  _ gall _ . Mando’s undefeated record remained cemented in place and you couldn’t help but laugh as the game ended with your Kintan Strider taking one final critical blow. Your right palm comes to smack your forehead as you laugh watching the hologram “die”. Mando laughs too. Genuinely. A beautiful baritone laugh rings out through his modulator and he throws his head back. You look up to see the strong exposed jawline under his helmet and your body goes warm again. His authentic laugh changed the entire atmosphere in the ship. You sit there, beaming at him while he lets out a cathartic laugh. His visor comes back down looking you square in the face again. You look into his visor, searching for the eyes you can’t see, wondering what color they are. You don’t break gaze this time.

Your heart is absolutely pounding and you can swear you can hear it in your chest. The space between your legs is warm and wet, your breasts swollen and sensitive, and your breath races.  _ He has to know. He  _ **_has_ ** _ to know. _

_ _ _

Din stared at her, watching her thermal signature glow with white-hot heat. Her breasts were warm, but the space between her legs was warmer. He felt blood rush to his center, and before he could breathe, he was as hard as the beskar on his body. It took everything in him to control himself, and his breathing. She was breathing harder every second, and he was  _ getting  _ harder every second.  _ She has to know. She  _ **_has_ ** _ to know. _

_ _ _

The sound of a baby cooing from the top of the ladder made you both break your gaze to locate the kid.  _ How the hell did he get out of his pod? _ Great timing the kid had. You both stood at the same time, ending up standing an inch from each other face to face. He looked down at you from the visor. Neither one of you moved, but your breathing was still hard enough that with each breath, your breasts  _ just  _ met his beskar. You were soaking wet. A heartbeat passed and his still-ungloved right hand came up to trace a warm knuckle down your jawline before stopping to hold your chin, tracing his thumb under your lower lip.

Your breath hitched before he went upstairs to care for the child while you were left there completely aghast.

_____

A month or so after you started working with Mando, he upgraded your living quarters from a bench in the cargo area to a small room on the second level with an actual bed and an actual door. It might have seemed like a small gesture to most people, but having a private area where you could actually stretch out was like living like a queen. 

And you needed the privacy. Especially right now.

Mando had put the kiddo to sleep in his bedroom downstairs and went back up, shutting himself into the cockpit shortly after. You took the opportunity to climb into your own little bedroom. You flopped loudly on the bed and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, analyzing every single moment you just experienced. You thought back on his arm around you. His visor staring you down. His  _ hand _ on your jawline.

Your hand slides down over your clit and you press firmly with all of your fingers, just needing to be touched. The pressure floods warm blood to your pussy as you press up and down. You think of Mando’s warm hand as you slip your own into your underwear, willing it to be his. Your fingers knead the soft, swollen skin between your legs that has been aching for attention since you sat at that table. Your fingers gently circle your clit as you remember the sheer masculinity of his arm around you. Claiming you. You imagined that his visor could see right through your clothes, mentally stripping you. You gasp at the thought and press your hips into your fingers.

You remember the sheer sex you felt walking in that silk dress,  _ knowing  _ that he was watching your body. You imagined him leading you to a quiet area in that forsaken place, dropping to his knees and moving that huge slit to the side. In your mind’s eye you saw him down there, helmet tilted up, his warm tongue finding your clit, welcoming it by licking it from bottom to top. Your hips move and press into your own fingers as you imagine the scene and you moan thinking about his fingers finding your pussy. You imagine he’s slow and strong with his fingers, entering you over and over again. You imagine he is hard as a rock while finger fucking your brains out, turned on by your body reacting to his. You slip your own fingers inside you and moan loudly.

_ _ _

Din has been hard since leaving that game table. Images of her swirled in his mind and he grunted, subconsciously moving his hips. He had heard her shut her bedroom door just down the hall from this room, but he shut and locked this door to the cockpit too, just in case. He thought about her hips moving back and forth in that shithole casino, searching for, and finding no underwear lines. His dick throbbed.

He remembered the way she kicked her leg out of that slip while she waited for her drink at the bar, her breasts pressed forward, accentuating her sculpted back. He thought about the way her nipples were hard as she sauntered her way over to the table they shared and how her thermal signature showed she was turned on. He groaned, undoing his pants, desperate.

He imagined her walking in here naked, nipples hard, turned on. He stroked his dick and humped into his hand watching in his imagination as she walked over to this chair and sat on top of him, soaking wet.  _ Fuck. _ He thought, stroking his dick as she slid down it in his mind. He imagined her moving up and down, rippling with pleasure, watching her perfect breasts bounce with each movement. He’s never been so hard in his life. He tipped his helmet up and spat on his palm, wanting to feel that imaginary wetness dripping down his dick. He imagined holding her steady by her hips and fucking her hard from underneath, hearing her imaginary moans with each thrust loudly in his head as he took control. Din leaned over, slamming one hand on the console for stability while he came a gallon in his own hand. He needed her. 

Little did he know that she had cum at the same time wanting the same thing. 

_____

You stood in the little kitchenette the next morning before anyone else was up, mindlessly stirring the Porg eggs while you thought about your imaginary sex with Mando. You didn’t even feel ashamed. You felt turned on by it. You still wanted him. Desperately. 

So you stood there, stirring and stewing, still wet and swollen for your employer. This time you were going to do something about it. You were going to test the waters.

You had spent a good long time this morning combing your long hair, and finding something to wear that said “I swear these are just my comfy clothes, and no, I don’t have any ulterior motives…” So you decided on some short, skin-tight, black baselayer shorts and an equally skin tight white tank. You were nervous, but motivated. When you heard the cockpit door slide open this morning you realized he must have slept in the captain’s chair last night. You said “Good morning!” as he slid down the ladder without looking over your shoulder, blushing already.  _ Maybe wearing this is inappropriate. Maybe testing the waters was a bad idea. _ You second guessed your motives as you flipped the eggs one last time and set them on the cool sonic burner before turning around. 

There he sat. At the same table as yesterday. Helmet absolutely deadlocked on you, but that was all the armor he was wearing. Without realizing it, your mouth fell open and your heart rate absolutely skyrocketed. He was sitting there, fingers folded under his chin, leaning on his elbows. His near skin-tight black undershirt rolled up exposing his muscular forearms. You felt your nipples get rock-hard and your inner legs get wet again. Your heart absolutely slammed against your sternum and you stood there frozen, trying to figure out what you were seeing. 

An eternal moment later, he curled one index finger, beckoning you to him. You took your time walking around the table to stand in front of him, his helmet and shoulder staying square with you as you moved. You stopped just in front of him and he stood up, towering over you. Slowly, he reached in his pocket, pulling out a strip of black cotton about a foot and a half long. He pulled it out to its length, letting you try to figure out what it was. You looked up at his visor, raising an eyebrow before he brought the soft fabric up to your eyes and covered them. Your mouth fell open, gasping for air as his warm fingers tied this fabric over your eyes, blocking your vision.

Then you hear it. 

His helmet is set down on the table with a soft  _ clunk.  _ Your breasts are heaving up and down, nipples hard, begging to be touched. 

A warm palm meets your left cheek and strong fingers grip the nape of your neck, pulling your face up to meet his. Your mouth explodes with sensation as he kisses you. You moan loudly and he growls low in his throat, his voice unimpeded by the modulator. You throw your hands up and around his neck, weaving your fingers in his curly hair, pulling him closer. You arch your back, pushing your chest into his, his arms pulling you in closer. Your mouth explodes with sensation. His smell, his taste, his feel, everything about him is overwhelming. The slit between your legs is dripping warm and you push your waist into his. He groans and you can feel that he is rock hard under his pants.

Hands scramble at the bottom of your shirt, ripping it up and over your head. His mouth leaves yours and finds your breasts instead, taking one into his mouth and squeezing the other with one hand, while his other hand slips one finger over the top of your waistband, slowly pulling it down. You throw your head back as you moan loudly. Your mind is screaming with pleasure. 

His mouth kisses down your front, slowly pulling your shorts down to your ankles and you quickly kick them off. His mouth leaves you for one moment and you breathe rapidly.  _ Is this real?  _ You question as you stand there, waiting for his presence to return. You hear the rustling of fabric as you assume his clothes are tossed aside too. Your body shudders with anticipation. 

A hand finds your ass cheek, and a tongue licks the moisture that has been dripping from between your legs down your inner thigh. You gasp and again he moans. His tongue presses flat against your clit and you almost scream. His hand on your ass is the only thing keeping you upright. With long, slow strokes, he licks you like he did in your imagination, from bottom to top. His tongue is warm as he stops over your clit and sucks. You fall forward, slamming your hand on the table for support. He lifts your left leg up on top of his strong shoulder and flicks your clit with his tongue, growling ferelly into your center. “Oh fuck, Mando!” you scream. He growls a reply.

He stands, grabbing the outside of either of your thighs and sits with you on his lap on the bench. Immediately, your hand searches for and finds his  _ massive  _ rock hard dick and you swear your chest almost collapses in on itself. You kneel on the bench, the Mandalorian between your legs, and sit on his massive cock absolutely crumbling inside as he fits his entirety into you. He groans and spanks your ass. You kiss him as you move up and down, moaning each time you slide up and down. His dick is perfect. It stretches your insides and skewers you as you ride him. You fuck him slow at first but as you get closer you become more frantic. “I’m getting close!” You yell.

“No.” He growls, holding your hips steady above him as he fucks you hard and fast from underneath. Each thrust sends you absolutely skyward and you get closer and closer to cumming each time. He pounds you hard, thrusting his entirety inside you each time inching you closer and closer until he pulls your face down and demands in your ear “Cum for me.” And on command, your body convulses and spasms, your pussy pulling hard on his dick as you’re rocked by a hard climax. Your pussy soaking wet with your own cum.

He picks you up again but this time lays you on your back on the table next to you, his dick never leaving your pussy. He stands next to the table and slams his dick into you, grunting with each thrust. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long.” He growls, shoving his face into your neck and biting softly. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” You moan, pressing his face into your neck. “Fuck, you’re going to make me cum” he yells, fucking you harder and faster yet.

“Oh  _ stars _ Mando cum inside me.” You scream, grabbing his hair again. “It's safe, but fuck, cum inside me”. He thrusts long and hard just a handful of more times before yelling his way through an earth-shattering climax. 

He collapses on top of you, breathing heavy, his skin coated in a sheen of sweat. You hold him there, feeling his dick pulse and kick inside you. He kisses you hard, yet lovingly, again holding your face with his strong hands. “I have wanted that for so long, girl.” He kisses you once more, gently.

“Stars, me too, Mando.” He picks you up and sits you down in the booth, and you rest your head on your forearms on the table. You hear him putting his clothes and helmet back on before undoing your blind. You look up at him smiling, absolutely starstruck by this guy. You look him right where his eyes should be. “Me too.”

He gently hands you your clothes from the floor, running over to the kitchenette to get coffee and eggs. You smile at the energetic little jog he does, biting your lip in sheer happiness. Slowly, you put your clothes on and wrap a nearby blanket around your body as he sets a plate of breakfast down in front of you. He grabs a plate for himself and looks back over at the table, pausing for a moment. 

“If you’d like to come eat with me, I’ll turn my head away when you take a bite. I promise you.” You beckon, patting the seat beside you. He paused for a heartbeat longer before sitting down next to you. You smile, giddy like a child and spoon some eggs.

Before you can even get a bite in, you hear a munchkin wake up from the bedroom door across the room. He starts to stand before you beat him to it, telling him to stay and enjoy. 

_ _ _

Din watches this gorgeous, entrancing girl dance across his dirty ship to go greet his son as he wakes up. He is utterly beaming under his helmet. She opens the door and says “Peanut!” to the kid when she sees him standing on Din’s bed, little arms raised, asking to be picked up. 

“ _ Bah! _ ” he replies. His heart pounds in his chest. 

While she carries the kiddo over to the table, Din jumps up to grab a plate of food for him (big enough to feed another adult), and pulls out the chair for her. She smiles widely at him again sending his heart beating. 

Sitting down at this table surrounded by two incredible creatures, Din can’t think of a time he was happier.


	5. The Quarry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut! Shower sex! Tension! Oh my!

#  Chapter 5: The Quarry

_ You brought the Crest out of hyperspeed as you approached Nevarro. _ From this height, the volcanic planet glowed. Stripes of red magma streaked the planet like marble. You sat back in your chair, smiling, listening to the little gremlin behind you coo and giggle as he played with the silver ball. The door to the cockpit slid open and Mando walked in, adjusting a strap on his forearm. He strutted up behind you, covered your eyes with a gloved hand and kissed your neck where it met your collarbone, leaving the spot buzzing. You smile, holding his helmet there for a moment.

“You doing okay?” he asked, uncovering your eyes and turning to pet the kid’s head. You turned and nodded at him. “Good. I’m just going to drop into Nevarro and pass along these quarries to Karga. I shouldn’t be more than a few hours.”

“Could I come with you?” You asked. Nevarro wasn’t a planet known for its scenery, but you still wanted to see as much of the galaxy as possible.

“No.” He stated flatly.

“Why not?” you asked, standing up.

“It’s a dangerous place filled with bounty hunters and other scumbags. I’ve put you through enough danger this week.” He says, sitting in the captain’s chair and slowing the thrusters as the planet drew nearer. 

  
You crossed your arms in mock-frustration. “I think if I survived Tatooine with you there, I can survive a few hours on Nevarro.”

“I said no.” He barked sternly as he turned around, clearly more serious than you read initially. You take a beat to nod your head, confused. You sat in the navigation chair, hoping he would explain more. “I-I need you here to take a look at what is causing the left laser cannon to falter.”

“Okay.” was all you could reply as you turned and climbed down the ladder.

The Razor Crest landed in a dry patch of dark volcanic soil on a ridge far from the small village of the bounty hunter guild. There were no plants in sight and you doubted there was any plant life on this entire planet. The atmosphere was a light tan color, likely caused by all of the volcanic activity beneath it. 

“I promise I won’t be more than a few hours.” The Mandalorian stated, pinching your chin between his thumb and hooked index finger. You smiled softly, still a little disappointed to be left behind. The Mandalorian jetted off in the direction of the town. You watched him until he was an indiscernible speck.

_ _ _

Din landed softly in stride, and made his way into the dim little cantina filled with other members of the guild. Armed bounty hunters of all species filled the small space, leaning on the bar, laughing in the booths with their boots up on the tables. Each guild member here was capable enough, and although they had all taken the oath, he still didn’t trust a single one.

Karga was already sitting down in his usual booth on the right side of the cantina, sipping on a glass of glowing blue liquid. “Mando!” He calls, watching Din walk through the door. “Come, join me for a spotchka.” He gestures to the seat across the table.

Din tosses three bounty pucks on the table in front of Karga, causing him to stop mid-sip. Karga stopped and looked at the pucks then back up at Din. “Where’s the last one?” He gestured with his glass.

Din sat down across from Karga. “Need more time on that one.” he stated flatly. 

“More time? Mando I can’t keep giving you extensions. That client is still waiting on the last one I gave you months ago!”

“I told you what happened with that one. When I got to Tar-V1 there was an explosion right on top of where the quarry was located. There was nothing there but cinders.” Din stated, stretching the truth but maintaining his cool.

“We still need a body then, Mando. That was a high, off-books bounty, and it won’t be paid to you until a body is brought in.” Karga poured himself another snort of spotchka. “Plus, if  _ I  _ keep making excuses for you to the client, he’s going to light a fire under my ass.”

“I’ll get that Lento quarry to you in a week.” Din states flatly.

“Which one? You can see how this is a complicated situation I’m in.” Karga shoots back the spotchka. Din tilts his helmet, not understanding. “The girl, or Lento’s son, Tripp? Grem isn’t the kind of person you want to keep waiting, and he commissioned that girl’s bounty months ago. But at the same time, I have to keep the fact that we’re after his son a secret, too.”

Ice creeped down Din’s spine. The girl’s bounty was commissioned by Lento’s father? He was sick to his stomach. If he had known that before taking her to Canto Bight…

Din realized that he might have just painted an even bigger target on this girl’s back without realizing it.  _ Fuck, what have I done?  _ He thought back to the encounter on Canto Bight, remembering her strange reaction to seeing the quarry. His heart sank, but sat as still as stone. Had she recognized Tripp? If she had, he had unknowingly put her face-to-face with the son of a scumbag trying to harm her. And if she had, she was stronger than he could possibly fathom.

Din leaned forward on the table, needing to understand the scope of his fuck up a little more. “So what does this Grem Lento do?” he inquired. 

Karga shook his head. “You know I can’t discuss clients. It’s against guild code.” Karga sat back in his booth seat. Din stared him down and he just shrugged. “Sorry, Mando, my hands are tied!”

Din tossed a small sack of credits at Karga under the table, and Karga sat up. “A friend to a friend.” Din stated, hoping that he would take the bait. Karga looked around and leaned in close.

“Meet me outside in 5.” Greef Karga slid, not nearly as inconspicuous as he thought he was.

Mando took a beat to stand up and follow Karga outside. Shady business was not uncommon here, but this was dangerous breaking guild code so blatantly in front of guild members. Din stood and silently ducked out of the door, noticing Greef standing, his arms crossed at the wrists in front of him. He nodded for Din to follow him.

After walking silently for a moment, Karga spoke up. “The guild would have my head for telling you this, but since you’re a friend,” He looks around again. “Grem Lento is a dangerous man to be messing with. He is a wealthy warmonger that made his money selling weapons to both sides during the war.” Din is silent, cold. “It is easy to remain neutral when you’re benefiting from both sides.” Karga states.

“So what does he want with some random girl from a worthless desert moon?” Din inquired, careful to control his emotions.

“Apparently, this girl stole credits from him many years ago and is collecting now on that debt.” Karga spoke quietly. “Though I have also heard rumors that he made an attempt to...well,  _ purchase _ her to force her to  _ work _ off her debt.”

Din was fuming under his beskar. His muscles went rigid in anger and he was seeing red. If he had thought Tripp Lento was bad, clearly he didn’t come close to his father.  _ I am going to end that bloodline.  _ He thought, hands balling in to iron-tight fists. Karga pulled him over to the side, ducking into a dark alley.

“Now Mando, I worked with you to save that kid. Please tell me you’re not suffering another case of playing superhero.” Karga said, holding Din’s arms. Din remained silent. There was nothing to say at this point. Karga dropped his head, shaking it from side to side. “Mando. This is  _ not _ good.”

“Did you give anyone else in the guild her puck?” Mando barked. “Don’t you lie to me this time, Karga.” Din shoved a finger in his face and Karga shook his head, looking tired and disheartened.

“No, I swear. But Mando, what are you expecting to do? This guy is dangerous.  _ Very _ dangerous. And  _ always  _ heavily guarded.”

“I don’t know yet. But I’m going to do something.” Mando looked around, hoping an answer would fall in his lap. “But for right now, I need you to buy me more time.” Mando turned and started walking out of the alleyway, his back to Karga. “And if I found out you’re lying to me…” He let it hang, letting Greef imagine what he was going to say before jetting off back to the girl.

_____

Mando had landed hard after just a quick couple of hours, which made you feel a little better. You were glad he wasn’t away long. You were up on top of the wing, fixing the faulty laser cannon, as he had asked when he landed on the ramp without looking up at you. His body language made it pretty obvious he was furious about something. You climbed down the outer hull to meet him in the cargo hold, where he was putting away some new ammo and weapons equipment in the armory. 

“Hi!” you called, walking up to him slowly. No reply. He didn’t even turn to you to acknowledge your presence. “I fixed that issue with the cannon. It was just a misfiring forward-assist pin that was tripping the safety lock on and off.” 

“Could you climb up in the cockpit and fire the ship up. We’re getting out of here in a second. I just need to fly over to drop off the carbonite.” He hung a large, new blaster on the pegs in the armory, pressing it firmly to the back wall.

“Sure.” you state, confused. You tuck the dirty rag you were wiping your hands with into your back pocket and climb up to the cockpit as you were told.  _ Something must have gone down over there. _ You thought, opening the thrusters just slightly to get her warmed up. 

Mando climbed into the cockpit shortly after you. “Just swing her around to that darker grey building on the right. If you can hover her above the ground, I’ll just float these carbonites down the ramp to Karga’s men.” He said, flipping the switch above his head to open the ramp.

Again, you did as you were told. You strafed and swung the Crest around so that you were hovering just high enough for the ramp to be a few feet above the ground. “That’s good there.” He stated, starting to climb down the ladder. “Stay here.”

You shook your head more annoyed than anything. He was being cold, but you didn’t think you had done anything wrong. The two of you had just had the most  _ incredible  _ sex yesterday and here he was acting like everything was an inconvenience. Some insecure part of your brain regardless was worried you had messed up somehow.

You looked out the window to your right and saw the quarries in carbonite being floated away by some workers. One guy, however, caught your eye. A man stood alone, red shirt clad arms crossed, his long leather coat whipping in the air stirred by the ship. He met your eye, almost with a look of disappointment.  _ What is with these grumpy men today? _ He shook his head and dropped his chin to his chest before turning back to give Mando his credits.

Mando sat in the navigation chair, again without saying a word. You opened the thrusters and eased the ship through the atmosphere until she steadied out in space. To you, the silence was hanging, but you realize to  _ him _ this is normal. You hated it. You were growing more upset by the second not knowing what was going on.

“Did I do something to upset you?” you ask, spinning the chair around to confront him. You were over this.

“What? No.” He said,  _ still _ not turning around to look at you, clearly more interested in the navigation panel than acknowledging you.

“Then what is going on? You’re clearly upset by  _ something. _ ” You state. He solidifies the coordinates and the ship begins to map a course through spacetime to the mystery location he hasn’t shared with you. You’re practically begging for conversation at this point. “Because if they shorted you because of the last quarry, you can tell them it’s my fault.” He shook his head as his chin met his chest. 

“No,  _ I _ messed up.” He sat still for a long moment. “A few months ago, I missed picking up a quarry that had a high price tag. The deal was commissioned by some…” The sentence hung. “There are issues and consequences now because I never delivered on that deal.”

You nodded your head. “Well, is there a way we could retrace your steps to find this quarry?” You ask, willing to help. He shook his head, a breath blowing out of his nose under the helmet. “These bounties are put on bad people who have done bad things, right? Isn’t there a personality type that makes them easier to spot?”

“Not necessarily,” he says quickly. “Some of them are good people who just have fallen into unfortunate...circumstances.” His helmet looks directly at you.

“Well, can I help track them down and bring them in? I don’t want this causing more trouble for you. I can see this is weighing on you.” You notice that before you even finish your first sentence he is already shaking his head. 

“No, sweetheart. No, I think this one we have to let go, regardless of the danger. They’re a good person and don’t deserve the life that would await them if I brought them in.” You nod slowly, understanding his moral dilemma.

“Well, know you’re a good person too for letting them live.” you smile, getting up and standing in front of him. He leaned back in his chair and smacked his thighs, encouraging you to straddle his lap. “And whatever happens, whatever comes our way, we’ll beat it.” His head tipped back to look at you through his visor and your body reacted viscerally. You sit on his strong legs and put your hands on either side of his helmet.

“You and me, girl.” He said, playfully smacking your ass with both hands. 

_____

“You almost had it that time!” You clap as the kid picks up the silver ball from between his legs. “Let’s try again. I’ll throw it better this time.”

You stand back just a few feet in front of him, and again rock the ball underhand. “One, two, three!” you toss the ball towards him and his little hand just barely hits it. “Almost! You’re so close!” you say, a wide grin spreading across your face. “One more time.” You again position yourself so that you’re just a few feet from the edge of the bed where the kiddo is sitting. You slowly rock the ball underhand once more. “One...two...three!” you let go of the ball and it floats towards the kid. Just as it is about to hit his little hands it freezes.

The ball hangs, suspended in the air, rotating as if it were still falling towards him, but is stationary. Your mouth falls open. The kid’s eyes are closed, a single hand reached out to grab the ball just inches from him. But the ball hung. Frozen. “What the?!”

Just then, the ball drops to the metal floor in front of the bed with a thud. The kid looks back up at you and states “ _ Huh? _ ”. You don’t move an inch. You are having a hard time comprehending what you just saw.

“Um, good--good job, kiddo!” You finally state, picking him and his ball up and making you way towards the cockpit. “Let’s go see your dad.”

As you enter the cockpit, Mando turns around to see you, crossing his ankle over the opposite knee. “Hello, beautiful.” he says, watching you put the kiddo in the pod. He must have noticed the confused look on your face because he followed with “What’s wrong?” You didn’t reply right away, because you were still trying to figure out what happened.

“He, uh--I was--I was trying to teach him to catch,” you start, turning to look at Mando, and see that he is already nodding his head, seemingly knowing what you’re about to say. “And he--caught it. Without touching it.” You stood, watching Mando nod and looking at his son. “Either I need to sleep, or I have  _ finally  _ lost it.”

“Yeah, he does that.” Mando replies, picking up the kid and sitting him in his lap. “Apparently that is something that his kind can do. Move things with their minds.” He said it so casually as if it were a common thing. “I was pretty shocked too, seeing it for the first time.” he looked down at the pipsqueak in his lap and rubbed one of his ears. He got a loving coo in return. “He is an incredible kid.” Mando said, sounding every bit like a proud father. Your heart felt warm.

“That’s amazing.” you shook your head in disbelief. “I didn’t know there were any creatures out there that could do that.” You watched the two boys in front of you and felt complete peace. Things had certainly changed in the past few days and you were soaking it up.  _ This is what a family looks like. _ The thought crossed your mind, bringing peace with it. “I think I’m going to make a pot of Carnelia flower tea and take a quick shower before heading to bed. I’m still covered in blaster cannon dust.” You look down at your dirty clothes laughing before looking back up to meet Mando’s visor. He stared straight at you, silently. Your eyes grew wide, unsure of what was going on, and you laughed mock-nervously. “Okay--okay then...see you in a bit…” You state, climbing back down the ladder, noticing Mando staring at you the whole time.

_____

You let the warm water pour down your face, feeling each stream of water as it ran over your eyelids, lips, and chin. You still had questions about the green bean and his abilities, but it seemed that Mando didn’t know much more than you did about it. You thought about the way he sat upstairs, taking up space in such a masculine way, and then softening when he held his son. The idea that he could do  _ both _ made you wet.

The man may be covered in metal, and you’ve never seen his face, but he was made of pure sex. And you were pretty sure he knew it. Images of the two of you fucking flashed through your mind and your pussy contracted remembering the sensation.

A knuckle rapped on the door ripping you from the memory. “Yeah?” you called. No response. You waited a moment before again saying “Yes?”. Again, nothing. You pushed open the shower door slightly and saw Mando standing there, leaning a shoulder against the wall, arms crossed, legs crossed at the ankles. You gasped, startled by the sudden and  _ silent  _ presence of him. Fuck. Why was it so hot when he was just standing there looking at you?

Without moving anything else on his body, he slowly started removing his gloves. Your breaths deepened and you could feel your breasts becoming more sensitive, pushing towards him with each breath. Piece by piece, and  _ achingly _ slow, bits of beskar were removed, tossed on the floor. The same black undershirt as before, hugging every muscle on his torso. You bit your lower lip, praying he would keep going. He stood tall like a mountain, strong, and motioned for you to turn around. You complied, slowly turning around and staring at the back of the shower, listening for any movement at all and imagining watching him strip. Warmth flooded between your legs thinking of it.

Your ears strained as you listened, hearing the sounds of heavy beskar being set down, fabric being pulled off skin, and piling on the floor. You hear the beskar being picked back up and your heart rate skyrockets. If he could sneak in the room without you hearing it, you realized, then he must be making noise  _ knowing  _ how much it is turning you on. 

Suddenly, the silence hung again. You stared at the wall straining to hear  _ any _ noise, and hearing nothing. You didn’t want to turn around and accidentally see his face, so you just stood there, listening in silence.  _ Where did you go?  _ You think, trying to scan the room around you for sound.

A hand reaches up and gently grabs the base of your neck, arching your neck backwards onto the strong, bare shoulder behind you. His other hand reaches down and grabs between your legs, claiming you. All of the air leaves your lungs as he presses his body against yours. You slam your eyes shut, not wanting to see his face.

“It’s okay, beautiful, you can look.” A cool heavy helmet rests on your shoulder. You turn your head to see that he is wearing nothing but his helmet and your eyes slam open, mouth gaping. You start to trace down his body with your eyes, trying to take advantage of the moment when he forcefully pushes your body against the wall of the shower. Your breasts press against the cool wall as he pushes his entire body weight into you. Your palms press flat on the wall, but he grabs  _ both  _ of your wrists with  _ one  _ hand and holds them high over your head. You instinctively wriggle, but his hand keeps yours still with a beskar-strong grip. You moan loudly.

His right hand finds your clit from behind and presses three fingers against it, willing more blood to pool when he releases. Instantly, your pussy responds by flooding with warmth and pulling upwards in anticipation, begging for attention. You arch your back, allowing him greater access to you as the warm water flows down your spine. He stands back to watch you, his helmet trained on the space between your legs, offering a low, feral growl in his throat.

He brings his hand back to your clit and begins moving his fingers in a slow circular pattern, pressing slightly each time he rounds a new circle. Your head droops backwards, dizzy with pleasure. Each time his fingers circle your clit, the more and more blood pools there, swelling in your pussy.

He releases one of your hands and orders in a low, modulated baritone “Touch yourself.” as he slides his fingers backwards to the sensitive entrance of your pussy. Your fingers pick up where his left off, circling and pressing on your clit as he slips two large fingers inside of you, sending stars to your vision. Your body heaves and moans as he slowly, rhythmically presses his fingers inside you.

Electricity ran down the inside of your legs as his rhythm increased. In one incredible motion, he spun you around, still holding your left hand high above your head. Your back pressed against the wall as you continued to touch yourself, his fingers again thrusting inside of you. Warm water ran down his beskar helmet, following the intense lines cut into his cheeks. His visor scanned up and down your body slowly as if trying to memorize every curve. You took the chance to gaze at him, too.

My _ stars, _ the man was built. Strong, broad shoulders connected to his long neck by a bridge of thick traps. His sculpted chest was speckled with small scars and a patch of brown chest hair that led your eyes to his cut abs. It was as if his body was filtering your eyes downward as the “V” in his waist pointed directly to his massive, erect dick. He leaned into you with his strong legs and perfectly round ass, smothering you with his rock-hard body. His fingers pulled out of you and began stroking his own dick making you go dizzy. 

You watched as his long, slow pulls fell in time with you rubbing your clit. You seemed fascinated watching each other. “You know the day--the day before we fucked,” you started breathlessly, ripping your upright hand out of his grip to wrap around his shoulders. “I got off thinking about you.” you stated, staring at his visor, wanting to meet his eyes. His head rolled back as he moaned, the low baritone sound ringing. His visor came back to you, looking up and down your body. 

In the flash of a second, he held you up, arms curled under your knees as he inserted his length into you. The puncturing pleasure made you nearly scream as he filled every inch of you. “So did I.” he growled, thrusting himself into you over and over. Your body spasmed with electric pleasure as he pounded you, effortlessly holding you up.

He propped your back against the wall and brought one hand up to your jawline, holding it firmly in his hand. His thumb traced along your jawline and found its way into your mouth. You sucked and bit gently, moaning as he thrust into you, finding your G-spot again and again. Each time he found it a spark of electricity would shoot through your entire body from your head to the very tips of your toes. “Fuck, Mando. Fuck, I’m going to cum!” you grunt, sucking on his thumb.

His helmet pops up, looking at you directly. “Do it. I want to watch you scream.” He demands, thrusting into you harder. Your body convulses, contracting and spasming as you inch closer to an orgasm, your pussy pulling on his dick  _ hard _ with each thrust. Electricity shoots through your body and he finds your G-spot one last time, sending your body screaming and cascading into a commanding climax.

He continues to thrust hard and fast into you, increasing with intensity every moment as you breathlessly command “Do it. I want to watch you scream.” And that does it. He yells and swears his way through a climax that leaves his head drooping onto your shoulder. Warm cum filling your insides as he empties into you.

The two of you collapse in a bundle on the shower floor, and you come to sit between his legs, exhausted. He pulls you back to lean into his chest and lowers his helmet to rest on your shoulder, strong arms hugging you from behind. You sit there together until the water runs cold.


	6. The Intel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *smut* obviously.

#  Chapter 6: The Intel

The Crest groaned out of hyperflight approaching the atmosphere above a small, colorful planet speckled with lights that spiderwebbed over the land surface like veins of gold. Large, white clouds floated gracefully high above the surface, softening the glow of some of the more densely-lit areas on the planet. The Crest approached the region on the planet that had just experienced sunset, the warm glow of the lights soft, yet intensifying as the darkness of night spread across the planet.

Mando had punched in the coordinates to Corellia, telling you that he was going to meet a friend there. Of course you had heard of the planet, which had been a founding member of the Galactic Republic, but you had never imagined you’d see it in person. 

The Crest slowly entered the atmosphere, lowering down gracefully through the thick clouds you’d seen from above. As you ease the ship in its descent, drops of water formed on the outside of the observation shield and flowed down in streams. “Is this...rain?” You question, looking over at the Mandalorian for answers. He nods, and although you can’t see his expression, somehow you  _ know _ he’s smiling or laughing at you under that bucket. You squint your eyes. “You’re laughing at me aren’t you.” He silently shakes his head, confirming your suspicion.

“Put her down in hangar bay 45.” He said, his voice sounding peppy as if he had been stifling a laugh.

You shake your head, and guide the ship into the small hangar bay on the outskirts of Coronet City, eyes wide on the incredible architecture and design of the skyscrapers. As soon as the landing gear touched down and you closed the throttle on the thrusters, you jumped up out of the captain’s chair and slid your way down the ladder. Mando and the kid watched you in alarm as you seemed to fly out of the ship. But you didn’t care. You wanted to feel the rain. 

You yanked the lever to open the ramp and hurdled through the opening before the ramp was even halfway down.

Cool droplets poured down on top of you, each one kissing your face with a chilly touch.  _ Wow.  _ You held open your palms and felt as the rain gathered in a small pool in the center of your hands.  _ This is incredible!  _ You closed your eyes and opened your mouth, letting the cool water magically rain down on you from above.  _ This  _ is what you wanted when you dreamed of seeing the galaxy: experiencing things you’d never be able to on Tar-V1.

You look back over at the top of the ramp to see Mando there, gently shaking his head while leaning a shoulder on the doorway, arms crossed in front of him. You again just  _ know _ he’s smiling at you under that helmet, so you just smile back as if he were. He nods behind him “Alright you wet womprat, come put something dry on before we go meet Shand.”

A few minutes later, you were walking next to the Mandalorian, as he strutted powerfully down the streets of Coronet City. He borrowed a force field umbrella from the hangar staff to cover the three of you as you made your way through the streets. Your eyes were soaking up everything they fell upon, from the bright, colorful advertisements in Aurebesh lettering, to the harsh lines of the brooding architecture, and the way the water pooled at the edges of the streets, reflecting it all back again.

You also noticed the looks you got from passersby, likely curious how a girl like you and a Mandalorian ended up with a little green child, smiling at the thought. “We’re headed into that cantina here on the right.” Mando gestured to a rounded doorway with a drunken Rodian stumbling out of it. “This is generally a safer planet than most we have been to, but just in case, keep your blaster in reach.” He patted the small of your back, where your blaster sat comfortably under your shirt, tucked in your waistband.. “There are scumbags everywhere.”

The cantina was crowded, and just as dark as outside. Colorful lights of all colors provided the only dim light in the place, a different color light designating each table and barstool. In the center of the room was a large bar with hundreds of bottles of glowing drinks, staffed by a beautiful Twi’lek girl, a large Ithorian, and a Zabrak guy who looked over at you and winked. Mando seemed to notice because he stared the guy down as you walked through the cantina. Something about that move turned you on.

“Mando!” A female voice called from across the room. You looked over and saw a pretty, dark haired woman waving from a table, holding a  _ very _ large stein of Tarisian Ale.  _ Impressive.  _ You thought, letting Mando take the lead over to the table. The woman stood up and shook Mando’s hand. “It’s been a Corellian minute, hasn’t it? You staying out of trouble or getting into it?” She laughed. “And this must be the trouble you’re getting into, huh, Mando?” she looked over at you.

“This is Fennec Shand, and old friend from the guild who helped me--” Mando starts

“Who helped him with too many things!” she laughs, gesturing you to sit down and ushering the Zabrak bartender over. As he approached, Mando stretched out, putting his arm around you, again staring the poor guy down. You reach down and squeeze his knee under the table.

“What can I get for you? The bartender asks, avoiding unnecessary eye contact. 

“I’ll have what she’s having,” you state, leaning your forearms on the table.

“Mando, I like her already.” Fennec laughs, pointing to her now empty stein. “Another one of these and bring us two--” she looks over at Mando, who waves his hand ‘no’, “yep, just two snorts of that Rylothian Spotchka.” Fennec hands the Zabrak her empty stein and turns back to you.

“You know, it’s about time I meet you! This guy hasn’t shut up about you since you came to be his crewmate...although you’re looking a little friendlier than crewmates, now.”

You laugh. “Well, it was a rocky start, but I guess you could say I’ve been promoted.” stating as Fennec laughs at that and sits back as the drinks are spread out on the table. 

“Don’t tell me he pointed a blaster in your face, too when you first met…” she implored.

Silence hung for a second.

Then the two of you burst into a laugh, clinking together the glasses of glowing blue spotchka and downing them quickly. “Mando, you’ve  _ gotta _ quit doing that.” Fennec laughs, shaking her head at him. He shakes his head too, in jest-disbelief at the jokes in his expense. He must be smiling under there. 

“He does seem to come at things fast and strong, doesn’t he?” jesting back, squeezing his knee again at the double entendre. 

“Has he ever told you the story about how we were chasing down a Gungan quarry in the sewers of that Imperial factory planet?  _ That _ one is a classic.” She says.

_____

A few hours and several drinks later, your abs are hurting from laughing so much. Mando has hardly said a word or moved a muscle, except to snort a laugh or shake his head at the two tipsy ladies next to him. 

“Mando, you have to keep this one around a while. She’s a hoot!” Fennec laughs.

“I’m planning on it.” He states cooly, making your insides flip. “Now that you two have nearly cleared out the bar’s supply, can we talk business?” He states, finally leaning into the conversation.  _ How does he sit like that for so long? _

“Fine.” Fennec states, slamming back the last swig of her ale. She takes a casual look around, reading the room like Mando does. “I’ll pass on what I know.” She pauses for a moment, settling, or sobering herself. “I reached out to the ex-guild members I trust, like you asked. Just sent some feelers out to see if anyone knew where this guy ran off too. From what it sounds like, this guy has some powerful friends trying to keep him safe. You must have made some noise last time you tried to pick him up.”

“Let’s just say it wasn’t as planned.” Mando stated, sitting back up straight. “But now I’ve got even more reason to bring this guy in. The quieter the better.”

“Well it’s going to take some skill getting this guy in quietly.” Fennec states raising her eyebrows in doubt. She leaned in and lowered her voice, though no one in the vicinity would know who exactly we were discussing. “My contact told me he’s been hiding in a Togruta brothel in the Red Light District on Coruscant.”

Mando sat back, and you watched his body language change. He looked like he knew what he was getting into, even if you were lost. You looked between them, trying to read expressions, but getting nowhere.  _ Damn bounty hunters. _ “What am I missing?” You ask, desperate for answers.

“Coruscant is a tricky place.” Fennec says, turning her head to you. “On one hand, there are a trillion people there, so it’s easy to hide. On the other, there are a trillion people there so it’s easy to be seen. Not to mention all of the security on that planet for the Galactic Senate.” She looks back to Mando. “Now listen, I can’t help you physically get this guy. I am wanted by both the remaining Empire operatives  _ and  _ the Rebel Alliance. But what I  _ can _ do is tell you how to get in there unnoticed.”

_____

You hugged Fennec goodbye, thankful to have made a new, quick friend. “I hope our paths cross again.” you say, letting go. 

“So do I, girl. You keep out of trouble, if you can. I know that’s a tall order.” She replies, moving to shake Mando’s hand. “And you keep these two safe.” she motions to you and the kid. “And like I mentioned earlier, head to the blacksmith in Naavini on Atrania. Tell him I sent you. He’s an old friend and I trust him with my life. It’s a quiet little moon orbiting Coruscant, so she should be safe there in the meantime.” 

The Mandalorian nods, shaking her hand once more. “Thank you, Shand. I owe you one.” He states kindly. 

“You bet you do. Until then.” she nods and turns, heading silently down the alleyway next to the bar.  _ Such a bounty hunter.  _

Walking back to the ship, you were lost in thought. There was a lot of information to digest from that experience, including the fact that Mando was planning on leaving you with a stranger, like a kid needing a babysitter.  _ Hate that. _ You figured you would try to find a way to come along.

Mando remained silent too, likely also stuck in his own head. You admired the way the reflection of the city lights bent and curved around his beskar. Now that it had stopped raining, the still puddles acted like mirrors, bending and refracting light in a way you’ve never seen. 

The city was still buzzing. It seemed like a place that never really stopped or slowed down. Shops and fuel stations were still open, lights were still on in the living spaces overhead, and speeders still flew around high in the sky. It was absolutely crawling with life, and you were amazed by the energy. 

To your right, across the street, something caught your eye: a blaster supply store.  _ I do need to have this thing serviced,  _ you thought, gently touching the back of Mando’s arm to get his attention. For some reason, he seemed very jumpy and fragile at the moment, and you were trying your best to not alarm him. “Hey Mando, The firing pin on my blaster has been getting stuck in the charge chamber. Do you mind if I stop in here to get it looked at?” He nodded. You had to admit, you were excited to take a look around in here.

  
  


The moment you stepped through the door, the shop owner was at your feet. Only later did you realize it was because you were with a Mandalorian, whose, you know,  _ religion is weapons. _

“Sir, Madam!” the Snivvian shop owned called as he rushed over to bow to Mando out of respect. You raised an eyebrow at Mando, who just shrugged at you in return, clearly loving it. “How may I assist you this fine evening?” He stared up at Mando, who remained silent, crossing his arms in front of him at the wrists.

“Actually, it’s for me.” you state, stepping around the Snivvian and looking into the glass cases of blasters, parts, ammo packs, chargers, and shields. The shop owned quickly realized his mistake and ran over to assist you from behind the counter. You looked back at Mando, who looked like he was laughing under that armor. You shook your head at him.

“What can I help you with today, miss?” He asked, setting his hands up on the glass. You set your blaster down in front of him and began disassembling it. It wasn’t  _ entirely _ necessary that you show off your weapon knowhow to this guy, but the lack of respect when you walked in made you want to show you weren’t a newbie. 

“The firing pin on her has been catching in the input ring to the charge chamber. It’s not really a  _ huge _ issue, but it is an annoyance, especially when I’m planning on shooting 8-gauge Magnanium charges through her. At first I thought it was because I had adjusted the ejector rod to capacitate higher caliber, but at this point, I think it is just bent from the continual expulsion of high-heat residue.” You set the pieces down, and stare at the shop owner.  _ Now _ he knows what he did wrong. “What do  _ you _ think?” you ask, smiling coyly at your victim.

You look back at the Mandalorian, who now is holding the end of his cape in front of his crotch, and trying to turn away from you. You mouth to him silently “Are you  _ hard?! _ ” He shakes his head a little too quickly and turns back around to “examine” the child’s shield. You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, but now you’re growing warm between your legs, too. 

The shop owner still stands agape when you turn around, but shakes out of it quickly. “Well, I believe you’re right. The issue is that with these Pre-Imperial models, the individual parts are hard to come by, and are more expensive to replace. And with this much wear and tear on the chamber, it’s not likely the blaster will be serviceable for much longer.

“Dank Farrik, I knew I wouldn’t find parts here. Oh, well. Let’s get going, Mando.” You turn around and wait for it.

“Wait!” the shop owner calls, desperate to make a quick credit. “Here is what I can do. Because some of these parts are still in good condition, and at this point this model is nearly an antique, I will trade you this blaster’s parts for a 20% discount on a newer model.” You smile, knowing you have won. 

Without turning around you state “Make it 30% and you have a deal.”

  
  


Ten minutes later, you’re walking out the door with a brand new DH-17 blaster pistol with variable site and extended charger magazine tucked in your waistband.

Mando walked behind you as you carried the kiddo in your arms back to the ship. The poor peanut was conked out, tuckered out from an exciting day. Aside from the intense intel exchange with Fennec, today had been great. You finally felt rain, Mando publicly displayed affection (as much as a Mandalorian can), you swindled your way into a  _ hefty  _ discount on a new blaster, and now you were walking back home cuddling a baby you love. 

You were getting close to the hangar when the Mandalorian grabbed your waist and pulled you into the nearest alleyway, pinning you into the wall, careful to not squish the sleeping baby. 

Mando held your chin up with his left hand, bringing his helmet to your exposed neck.

“I am going to rip your clothes off the second you walk onto my ship.” he whispers. “You’re going to lie down in my bed with that blaster in your hand, and I’m gonna tongue fuck you until you scream.” His right hand traces down your spine, finding a handful of your ass. You moan and curl into his body. 

But you’re still feeling powerful from swindling, and  _ you  _ want to take charge. You grab his neck and stare him in the visor. “No.” You smile. 

“Here’s what’s gunna happen. I’m going to walk into the Crest and put the kiddo to bed in my room.” You slide your hand down his front and grab his hard dick, baring your teeth as you watched him moan loudly and fall to lean on one hand against the wall. “I’m going to walk into your room. You’re going to be there naked on the bed getting ready for me.” He groans, leaning into you, moving his hips against your hand. “I’m going to strap my blaster on, blindfold myself, and sit on your face until I cum.” You feel electric taking control and he is absolutely on fire under your hand. 

“Fuck, girl.” He groans. 

You smile, curl your index finger under the chin of his helmet and pull him along, beckoning him to follow you. Wetness floods between your legs as you walk powerfully, leading the Mandalorian by his helmet. Even as you walk down the street the short distance left to the hangar bay, little one still in hand, your finger beckons him along.

Finally, you reach the hangar. You drop your hand and reach into your pocket to pay the attendants their due credits. They seem stunned to silence that a woman could be leading a  _ Mandalorian  _ like that. Your body was electric with power. You grabbed Nando’s hand and pulled him the rest of the way into the ship, turning around at the top of the ramp to pull the lever closed, all the time waving coyly at the completely aghast attendants.

You kept your promise, too. You immediately went upstairs to put the little one to bed in your room, making sure he was safe and tucked in before gently closing the door.

You hadn’t even moved the ship yet, and you didn’t plan on taking off until you were good and ready.  _ That’s  _ why you paid for extra time on the tarmac. 

You strip completely naked, but strap the blaster to your right thigh with your new blaster brace. This gun was a thing of beauty and deserved to be displayed as such. You slid down the ladder in one lotion and make your way to Mando’s bedroom door, knocking lightly only twice.

No response meant it was safe to come in. The door flung open and there lay Mando. Lying on the bed completely naked except for his helmet. He slowly stroked his hard dick.

“Come here and put this blindfold on me.” You demand, watching him slowly get up and walk behind you.

But the blindfold doesn’t come. Instead, heavy beskar is lowered to your shoulders, and a blinding flip is switched. You gasp. 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He tests. 

“Uh, 3?” You guess. 

“No, zero.” He picks you up from the front, spins you around and lays you on the bed, kissing every inch of your body.  _ Being in charge was fun for a moment, but fuck… _

“You look so fucking hot in my helmet” he growls, soft lips kissing your collarbone before sliding down to take your breast into his mouth. “Talk tech about your blaster again.” He commands. 

You gasp, writhing underneath him, pushing your body closer and closer to his. “Oh, you mean my DH-17 Post-Imperial dual-caliber pistol with variable scope and extended 8-gauge Magnanium magazines? Don’t play around with me boy.” You laugh, flipping him back over on his back. “ _ I’m  _ in charge today, Mandalorian.” You state, liking how your voice sounded through his modulator.

You still couldn’t see anything, but it wasn’t exactly hard to find his head, since he willingly put it between your thighs and pressed you down to sit on his face.

You gasp, back arching as he finds your clit with his tongue and arouses it with long, hard strokes. You moan and sink lower. His tongue circles your clit, each time flicking slightly, sending your body cascading into pleasure. 

“Oh fuck, Mando.” You moan, gently rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue. He moves down to lick and kiss every inch and fold of your pussy before thrusting his entire tongue inside you. You nearly scream and he seems to laugh in satisfaction beneath you. 

You begin to rock back and forth in time with his tongue pulsing in and out of your pussy, heating low growls coming from between your thighs. You can’t help but find you clit with your fingers and increase the intensity. “ _ Fuck.” _ Was all you could say. 

Your body pulses with pleasure, absolutely rocketing yourself towards climax, but you stop yourself. You want to cum all over his dick.

You carefully stand up on your knees and climb your way down his body, pressing your hard nippds against his chest on the way down. His dick is harder than the beskar on your head and you take a moment to tease him a little more. 

You slowly begin to stroke his dick, so slow you feel his body begging for more. His long shaft seemed to kick and jerk in your hand, desperately wanting to feel more of you.

So you oblige. You sit on his hard dick, your body spilling with wetness. A scream of pleasure pierces through your body as your body takes him in entirely. He yells in response, thrusting his hips hard into you as much as he is able to move. 

Your body responds in time, both rocking and undulating on top of him riding the muscles beneath you. Each time his dick enters you, a bolt of lightning shoots up your center as he teases your G-spot. 

He sits up, remaining inside you, bringing his hands to your ass and spanking you hard. His mouth comes to your breasts again, kissing and sucking on them gently, the overwhelming sensations dizzying you.

“Fuck, Mando, I want this for the rest of my life. I want you forever.” You state breathlessly. 

His head pulls out from your body. For a moment, his silence scares you, and you hope you didn’t say anything wrong. But you needed to tell him the truth. 

You stopped moving and he stopped too. The stillness hung. 

“Say it again.” He said quietly. 

You finally smile. “I want to be with you forever.” He stayed silent, but a hand came up under the too-big helmet to stroke your cheek. 

And then he spun you around, making it clear that he still was the strongest, even if he was letting you be in charge. “I’m going to make you mine, girl. Forever.” 

He kissed your neck again as he slipped his entirely back inside you, sending you gasping for breath. His arms locked around you and he thrusted into you, each time again sending electricity pulsing through your body.

Your toes curled as he railed you, bringing you closer and closer to cumming each time. “Oh  _ stars _ , Mando, I’m going to cum!” You scream, holding him inside of you.

“Fuck, me too.” He groans, increasing in speed as he thrusts his dick deep inside of you again and again. 

Your body rockets as you climax hard, feeling him convulse too as you simultaneously cum. You wrap your arms around him, holding him on top of you as you both catch your breath. You felt him roll you around so that your head was on his chest. “Eyes closed for me, beautiful.” he coos. He lifts the helmet from your head and puts it back on his own.

You lay there in peace for a few minutes, simply soaking up each other’s company. You noticed a change in the away his skin felt, and how comfortable his presence was. The more time you spent together, the more his presence felt like home. 

“Did you mean it?” he asks, breaking the silent with his gentle, modulated baritone. You look up at his visor, and smile.

“I did. Truly.” You expand your fingers across his bare chest. You were happy, but nervous about being vulnerable. But you couldn’t stop. “These past few months being on this ship with you and the kiddo have been the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. For the first time, I feel safe...and cared for.”

He lay there, staring back at you.

“I--I want to give you something.” He states, looking as though he were trying to steel himself. You look at him with curiosity. “To anybody else, it means nothing. But to me...well, it means a lot.” He sits up, leaning against the back wall, holding you close. “I want you to know my name. All of these months, and you never asked. Never once questioning why I wear the helmet. Never trying to compromise my creed. Telling you my name means a lot, because it means I’m trusting you.” You look up at him, shocked by his words.

“My name is Din. Din Djarin.”


	7. The Admission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FluFF and a little smut, but it's more fluff than anything...  
> Get ready for some DEPRAVED stuff next chapter though...  
> You've been warned.

#  Chapter 7: The Admission

You leaned on your hands, your elbows rested on the console, watching the stars fly by you from the observation shield. The ship was travelling at sub-lightspeed as it coasted through the safety zone around the mid-space fueling station. In the vast distance, green and pink nebulae floated like clouds frozen in time. There was so much you wanted to see of this galaxy, and you found yourself sighing with gratitude for the Mandalorian and his willingness to let you come along.

He had been particularly quiet about the details of this mission he was on as you headed to Atrania, as directed by Fennec Shand days prior. All you really knew was that he was chasing down a lead on the location of that scumbag Tripp Lento. For whatever reason, he hadn’t spoken much else on the matter.

The fueling station slowly grew larger as the Crest approached one landing pad on the near side. You eased her down gently, communicating with the droids on the station how much fuel you required. 

The Mandalorian slid through the door to the cockpit, fully geared up, carrying his jetpack in his left hand. You look over your shoulder and smile at him as he pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Hello, gorgeous.” He sings.

“Hi Mando-” You smile, eyes glowing and heart beating.

“You can call me by my name here when we’re alone, gorgeous.” he coos, a breathy laugh coming out from under that helmet.

You smile, looking down at your hands in your lap. “I know you said to, I just didn’t want to be disrespectful.” You glance over at him as he adjusts the rockets attached to his jetpack. “I don’t want you to think I take it for granted.”

He shakes his head, again with a breathy laugh. He sets down his jetpack and sits on the edge of the chair next to you, gloved hands reaching out to hold yours. “You have been more understanding and respectful than anyone I have ever met. That’s why I told you...because I trust you, and I want you to know. I want you to know  _ me. _ ” He states, standing up again and swiping a thumb along your jawline.

“I know, Mando. I--” you shake your head. It is hard to convey what you’re feeling into words. “I am so grateful that you trust me enough to share that with me. It just feels like something to be treasured. I want to honor the gravity of what it means for you to share your name with me, that’s all. I know how important privacy and anonymity is to the Mandalorian creed.”

He shakes his head, staying silent for a moment. “One day I’m going to hear you say it.”

“One day...maybe.” you jest, turning back around to the console to check the fuel levels. “We’re just about full up, so we’ll be back on course to Atrania here shortly. 

“Sounds good, gorgeous.” he says from over your shoulder, making your heart dance again. 

_____

Atrania seemed to glow from above. The small moon orbited around Coruscant, but was about as different as you could get. While Coruscant was virtually covered in a seemingly endless city of a trillion people, Atrania was a sparsely populated farming and herding planet. 

The Crest entered the atmosphere and slowly descended through the fluffy white clouds, bright blue skies filling the space between them. The tall green grass blew and waved in the turbulence caused by the engines as you gently set her down in an open field not far from a small town made of wood and stone buildings. 

Tall, thin trees with white bark speckled the landscape, breaking up the continuous, rolling grassy plains. The houses and buildings in and around the town seemed to be made up of wood from the same white trees, each building emitting a billowing wispy cloud of smoke from the hearths within. 

Everything about this place seemed gentle, from the cool breeze, to the tall billowing grasses, to the soft, white clouds above. You breathed in the fresh, cool air as you stood at the top of the ramp, feeling the breeze gently blow your long braid. The Mandalorian came to stand beside you, right hand wrapping around your waist. “You ready to head out, gorgeous?” he asked as the baby’s pod floated up next to him. 

“Let’s do it!” you state, smiling as you eagerly descended the ramp.

The dirt trail you walked into town was smooth and worn, clearly from the heavy use of carts drawn by Fathiers. The few locals you passed seemed friendly enough, raising their head only to smile at you before noticing your counterpart and dropping their heads again. You figured he must be used to that treatment, given the reputation of Mandalorians all over the galaxy.

But you were feeling brave and decided for a moment to try something you’ve never done in public. You reach for Mando’s hand and grasp it, interlacing your fingers with his. Your heart does a small victory flip when he doesn’t pull away, but instead squeezes your hand in his.

Behind you, the child giggles as a fluttering blue insect flies in front of him. You smile, happy to just be around these two. You look up through the light blue sky and can see the outline of Coruscant in the distance. From here, it looked a lot closer than it was. It looked as if you could reach out and touch it. You sigh, remembering you’re about to be left here without the Mandalorian while he goes off to fix your mistake alone.

Your head hangs for just a moment before you decide to put on a brave face for him, and vow to make the most out of your time here together. 

  
  


Inside the town walls, things are bustling. The town square is teeming and buzzing with life. Bordered by shops, the square hosts a market in the center, drawing in all kinds of folk from all over. Laughter can be heard from nearby pubs, and children can be heard playing with a small ball on the cobblestone streets.

The child behind you coos as he sees the other children playing as well.

Baskets of colorful flowers and fragrant herbs hung outside each window, colorful linen tapestries fluttered in the breeze, and a large stone fountain splashed water in the center of the square.

Ahead, a tall, stone clock tower looms overhead. The Mandalorian pulls you towards the structure, which he must figure is the town center. You were thankful he still held your hand for the time being. You were getting a little thrill from everyone’s stares.

  
  


Inside the structure, the building opened up into a large room filled with light. Tall windows let sunshine pour in, highlighting the intricate carvings in the white-barked wood beams holding the structure up. The space was obviously used as a meeting space for town business. Voices and laughter echoed off of the stone walls, creating a happy atmosphere.

The Mandalorian dropped your hand as he approached an amphibious looking person with blue skin wearing linen clothes. 

Mando greeted the person in a language you had never heard. The amphibious person seemed excited that Mando knew and spoke his language, because he quickly shook his hand and smiled. You smiled too, unaware of what was being said, but you didn’t want to appear unfriendly. You picked up the child from his pod, and held him on your hip.

Mando gestured to you and the child while speaking this strange language to his obviously captivated audience. You watched in fascination at the events unfolding as Mando gestured with his hands, obviously trying to convey something that he didn’t know the word for in this particular language.

Several minutes and much confusion later, hands were shaken, heads were nodded and the gesture to follow was given. “This gentleman, Urrm, is going to give us passage tomorrow to Naavini. He runs the local inn, where we will rest tonight before getting on our way.” You nod, a little stunned having watched the Mandalorian in action. He held out his arm and placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you with the gentlest touch to follow the innkeeper.

  
  


At the edge of town, just outside of the main city was a beautiful building three or four stories in height. Although made of the same stone and white-barked wood as the others in town, this structure was surrounded by a small white fence enclosing one of the most incredible gardens you’ve ever seen.

Inside the fence were plants of all shapes, sizes and colors. Flowers bloomed on nearly every stem, filling the air with a sweet floral aroma. The right side and front corner of the inn was covered in a creeping vine that had clearly taken over from its original trellis. The vine with compound light green leaves and drooping purple and white flowers that seemed to drip off of the vine like drops of water climbed its way up the entire building, only making way for the windows.

The windows glowed with soft golden light that cascaded down onto the gardens below.

You looked over at the Mandalorian aghast at the beauty, and he again pinched your chin. Your heart flooded with happiness...and another four-letter word that felt stronger. 

  
  
  


Urrm spoke and gestured his hand through the door of a room on the top floor of the inn, welcoming you inside. You stepped through, sleeping baby in your arms, marveling at the homey comfort. The wide white bed faced a large floor-to-ceiling window looking out the back of the property. The room felt warm, clean, and welcoming as you walked in, setting the child down on the bed to allow him some needed rest. 

Urrm spoke to Mando from the doorway, remaining a respectful host. Mando replied, and then looked over at you. “Urrm has invited us to dinner with his wife tonight, if you’re interested. She speaks Galactic Basic, so you wouldn’t be left out of conversation.”

“That sounds great!” you reply, looking at Urrm when you reply. Mando nodded to him and exchanged a few more words before shutting the door.

You turned to look out of the large window. Below, the garden continued to wrap around the back of the building, revealing a beautiful stone path leading to a large pond just a hundred steps or so from the white fence gate. The sun was just beginning to set, creating a silhouette of the rolling hills in the distance. As it got slightly darker, small lights began to turn on, illuminating the stone pathway in the garden and lining the pathway to the pond in the distance. It took your breath away.

Strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling your back against hard beskar. You closed your eyes, soaking up every second of bliss as he held you. “It’s nice here.” he stated, cooing into your neck. You brought your hand up to the side of his helmet, holding him there for a moment longer.

“It’s beautiful.” You turn in his arms, holding his helmet in both of your hands. You kiss the top of his visor, willing him to somehow feel it through the beskar. 

“Hey, I fixed that communicator brace that got smashed in Canto Bight.” He took his hands in yours, gently removing them from his helmet for a moment. He rummaged through the bag he brought and pulled out the brace. It looked like it had been polished and improved since then, the brass spotless, reflecting the soft light of the room. You flashed a wide smile at Mando. “It won’t work interplanetarily, but it will work if we’re in the same region.” He stated almost shyly, as he walked back up to you. “But before you take it, I--well I wanted to make sure--” he tripped on his words.

He pointed up to the sigil on his shoulder. “This is the sigil of my clan. The Mudhorn. I earned it a while back when I fought that beast and got an egg for those pain-in-the-ass Jawas. You remember the story.” You nod, unsure of where this was going.

“Well, right now, the kid and I are the only members of the clan...but I thought--” He spun the brace around showing you the other side where, just above the wrist of the brace was a small sigil of the Mudhorn. Your jaw fell to the floor. “I thought, if you wanted to be a part of this for a time, maybe you would--” He never finished the sentence.

Your jaw was still on the floor as you looked up into his visor, desperate to meet his eyes. You were aghast and speechless. You knew what this meant to him. This meant he wanted you around as a trusted member of his clan. Of his family. “Mando, I--” you clear your throat, which has suddenly caught. “It would be an honor.” you state, closing the gap between you and him.

He looks up at you silently and nods just slightly before sliding the brace on your left arm. The brace felt cool against your skin as it covered nearly your entire forearm, again hiding that ugly tattoo. You bit your lip to stop a tear from falling. “Good.” was all he said.  _ The man of few words. _

  
  


_____

You sat with the child in your lap, taking another bite of stew that Urrm’s wife Rhiina had made. She was a kind, but spicy woman who was clearly full of jokes. She was a different species than Urrm, being clearly more terrestrial. Her pink skin glowed under the soft lights of their dining area, highlighting kind, champagne-colored eyes with a wide, toothy smile.

She had joked with you all evening, about everything from the men to the moon. Mando sat back, his arm stretching around you and the kiddo, shaking his head at yet another joke made at his expense. “How come whenever you get around other women, all of your jokes are about me?” he asks, laughing quietly.

“You’re easy to make fun of.” you smile, stuffing the last bit of food in your face.

“And you’re lucky you’re cute.” he states confidently.  _ Fuck. _ His blatant confidence always made you wet. But you weren’t done being cheeky yet, so you winked at him. He just shook his head, blowing air out of his nose under that helmet.

Rhiina smiled at the two of you. “Well you two certainly are a pair.” She said, grabbing the bowls out from in front of you and the kiddo. “It’s always nice when a good, fun couple comes around. We usually just get drifters and the odd market trader.” 

As she left for the kitchen, Urrm began speaking to Mando in his own tongue, quickly making Mando laugh. You rolled your eyes in jest, understanding that they were now making fun of you and Rhiina.

_ _ _

Din laughed quietly as Urrm poked fun at his wife. While he understood a little Galactic Basic, it was clear that he was more comfortable speaking in Baluuric. Din was happy to oblige, he needed to practice his Baluuric anyway.

“She is a great girl.” Urrm stated from across the table.

“She is.” Din replied, looking over at the beautiful figure next to him, eyes narrowing at him questioningly. He just shrugged, happy to keep her in the dark

Rhiina came out of the kitchen with a small closed cylindrical container and set it down in front of Din. He looked up at her for answers. “I know Mandalorians are secretive about their faces, but I also know you have to eat.” she crossed her arms in mock-frustration. “You can eat that later in the privacy of your room.” He smiled under his helmet.

“That’s very kind. Thank you, Rhiina.” He stated, nodding his head slightly in respect. 

The girl smiled up at Din, clearly pleased that someone else was taking care of him too. He rolled his eyes and shook his head before pinching her dainty chin between his thumb and forefinger. She smiled.

“Now I hope you too get some good rest tonight. The journey to Naavini is a long one on the back of a cart, especially if you’re a bunch of soft space-types like you lot.” she smiled, wagging a finger at Din. Rhiina reminded him of Peli back on Tatooine, and he silently wondered if this was the kind of person he attracted in general: spicy, sometimes loud, but kind all the same. 

“I’m heading off to bed, and Urrm, you better join me quickly. Let your new friends get some rest.” She turned, heading towards the stairs in the corner before quickly turning back to hug the girl and the child. “Oh! And before I forget, I’m not sure if you saw the pond in the back of the property, but it is a nice place to take a dip to relax before bed. It’s heated by a geothermal vent so it’s nice and toasty.” She wags her eyebrows before heading up the stairs. 

“I think I’ll head up and put the little one down, too, Mando.” the girl stated, standing with a yawning baby in her hands. 

Din nodded, simply stating “I’ll be up in a minute.”, and watching her saunter away, fascinated by her figure.

“You’re going to have to lock that one down before she can run off!” Urrm stated, leaning forward on his elbows.

“I know it.” Din nodded, watching the girl disappear out of sight. “Unfortunately, we’re going to be separated for a few days here while I deal with some business over on Coruscant.”

Urrm shook his head. “That is no good. That’s a dangerous place over there.” he gestures over his shoulder with an amphibious thumb. “You’ll have to be careful.”

“That is why I’m leaving her here on Atrania. A friend told me to find the blacksmith in Naavini. He might be able to protect her while I’m away.” Din stated, also leaning forward onto his elbows. “If anything happened to those two, I don’t know what I would do.”

“Don’t fear, friend. Atrania is a fairly safe place. Only twice in my lifetime here have we had anything violent happen. Once was a trader who got shorted payment and stabbed the thief, and the other was when the Empire briefly touched down here looking for a stowaway.”

“Well, with my luck these days, I can’t be too careful.” Din replies.

“With your luck, you found a girl like her.” Urrm retorts. Din just nodded, thinking back to the moment he watched the girl jump into his ship on Tar-V1. He remembered being completely stunned that his quarry simply fell into his lap, but he was more awestruck at her kindness and wit.

“You are right on that, friend.” He nodded again, looking towards the doorway the girl had disappeared through. “I think I’ll go soak up as much time as I can before we’ll have to leave.” Din stands, offering his hand to Urrm, who shakes it right away.

“Go and be well, friend.” Urrm nods and turns to walk towards the stairs. “I, too, am going to soak up time with a beautiful woman.” he winks a large, dark eye before ascending the stairs.

Din laughed, and began walking towards the doorway leading to stairs to his room before stopping suddenly with an idea. He smirked, turning and heading instead outside.

_ _ _

The child was out cold before you even entered the room. All of the excitement must have conked the poor little one out. You wrapped him in a fresh blanket and placed him gently in his pod to sleep, before closing it securely.

You stretched your back and rolled your neck around, conscious of how surprisingly dense that little bean was. You looked over at the bed, which was freshly made with white linens and soft down pillows. Excitement filled your body at the idea of sleeping in the same bed as the Mandalorian, but then your eyes furrowed at the brows, wondering how he was going to be able to sleep comfortably with his helmet on. You shook your head and decided you would figure that detail out later.

You suddenly hear your name through the small communicator on your wrist. “Can you hear me?” the Mandalorian calls. You stare at the communicator brace for a moment, a little astonished that it actually worked. 

You press the large button on the display screen. “Ye-yeah, I’m here. You okay?” you ask, unsure.

“Go to the window.” he coos. You raise an eyebrow in suspicion. But you do so anyways. You slowly open the large, white linen blinds looking out across the back of the property. In the darkness, small bioluminescent insects fluttered about, creating soft streaks of light. Your eyes grew wide as you noticed the bioluminescent flowers as well. The garden that had been stunning in the daylight was even  _ more _ striking at night. Soft neon colors glowed from every stem, filling the area with a magical ambiance.

Your eyes followed the lights to the open gate, a large figure standing at the entrance. You smiled, recognizing the beskar anywhere. He motioned with his helmet towards the pond behind him. “Fancy a swim?” he asks, cooing through the communicator. You bit your lip, and nodded slowly, closing the blinds in front of you.

You slowly stepped away from the window before rapidly ripping off most of your outer clothing layers and running downstairs. 

Outside, the air was cool, but not cold. The flowers you saw from the window were even more stunning in person. The bioluminescence seemed to pulse gently like a resting heartbeat. Neon colors bathed the area in a gentle, majestic light. The scene was so enthralling that you almost forgot why you had come downstairs in the first place. 

You look over and see in the distance a helmeted figure sitting calmly in the water, watching as you make your way to the pond’s edge. The small, bioluminescent insects fluttered about like disembodied lights, bouncing and swirling gently in the cool air. Gentle wisps of steam rose from the water’s surface, acting almost as a translucent curtain.

You approach the water’s edge and feel something under your feet. You look down and notice that it is a pile of dark, heavy fabric and beskar.  _ Oh. _ Your eyes widen at the realization that Mando is completely nude in the water, save for his helmet.

A dark figure approaches you from the water and props his elbows on the edge of the pond, looking up at you through an impenetrable visor.

“You know, I’ve always been curious about what you can see with that thing.” you state, slowly removing your clothes piece by piece, watching as his helmet follows your every movement.

“Everything.” he purrs.

“Everything, huh?” you toy, dipping a barefoot in the warm water, but holding your clothes up in front of you still for privacy, wanting to know what he can see. “Tell me.”

He straightens his back, shoulder muscles rounding, highlighting the sheer strength he possesses. “Well,” he starts, his voice gravelly and low. “I can’t see  _ through  _ your clothes, per se,” he swims up right below you and begins sliding his hands up the sides of your calves very slowly. “But I  _ can _ see your thermal outline.” his hands come to rest on the backside of your legs just above your knees. “I can see exactly where you’re cold, and exactly where you’re warm”. As he speaks, blood floods to the space between your legs and your breath hitches. He breathes a single laugh “Just like that.”

He picks you up hugging his strong arms around your legs and gently sets you in the warm water. The pond is just as Rhiina had said, warm and soothing without being too hot. You slip underwater to feel the warmth around you, fascinated by the sensation of this much water around you. The sound underwater was a low grumble from the thermal vents below. The water seemed to both amplify and muffle sound at the same time.

You came up for air and wiped the water from your eyes, seeing Mando sitting against the edge of the pool, arms up and resting on the rocky edge. “This is such a beautiful place.” you state, looking around at the scenery. “Never in my wildest dreams could I have concocted something like this.” you shake your head, thinking about how far you have come from that small, hot cell.

Mando gently jerks his head back, gesturing for you to come to him. You swim up and sit next to him on the rocks, cuddling in close to his side. “Take a look up there.” he points skyward and your eyes follow. Above, against the dark backdrop of the galaxy is the shining outline of Coruscant. It is close enough that you can see the lights outlining sections of the planet-city. 

“That’s stunning. It looks so close!” you state, reaching your hand towards the planet, knowing you won’t be able to touch it.

You look back over at Mando, who is still staring up at the planet in the distance. You notice his long neck, your eyes following it down to his strong shoulders, and feel his arm squeeze you in tighter.

“Were you born on Mandalore?” you ask suddenly. You realized that despite having intense, undeniable feelings for this man, you really didn’t know much of his background...and he didn’t know yours.

“No.” he said, not moving his head. “No, I was a foundling.” he finally looks at you. “Why do you ask?”

You shrugged, and thought you might as well be honest. “Well, I guess--since we’re a part of the same clan now--I guess I wanted to know more about you.”

He laughed. “You want to know me, but you won’t say my name.”

You shake your head at him. “It’s not that, and you know it.” You roll your eyes and look back up at the galaxy. You’re silent for a moment, hoping he would say something else. 

“When I was a kid, my parents were killed by the empire.” he started. “Sentry droids attacked my village, and TIE fighters destroyed just about everything standing. But I was saved by Mandalorians.” He sat up straighter, clearly uncomfortable speaking so much. You turn to face him, hoping to encourage more conversation while offering support.

“I became fascinated by the creed, what being a Mandalorian stood for. So I trained and studied, and took the oath when I was old enough.” He finished, looking over at you.

“And no one has seen your face since?” you ask gently. He shook his head.

“The only time I can take off my helmet is when I am alone, or--” he clears his throat. “Or if I get married.” He quickly looks away. “The wedding ceremony for Mandalorians involves taking one’s helmet off for their partner.” He states flatly. You nod, understanding, but not wanting to make him uncomfortable. 

“I see.” You reply, trying to sound calm and respectful. “I think it is an incredibly noble thing, and I respect it greatly. To have something that you believe in that strongly is an incredible thing. I’m sure I would have followed the same path given the chance.”

You’re both quiet for a long time, simply soaking up each other’s company. He moves to the deeper parts of the water, dipping his shoulders in.

“Do you think you would have?” he asks, breaking the long silence. 

You nod. “If Mandalorians rescued me from my situation, I believe I would have, too.” you look to him. “I guess in a way, one did.” you smile at him softly. 

He drops his head. “I only wish I was there sooner. I wish I would have known. I wish--” He lets the sentence hang.

“You would never have known.” you state, swimming over to meet him and stand in the deep part of the pond. “And besides, I broke myself out of that place.” you joke half-heartedly. He pulls you in and leads you to the other side of the pond, letting you straddle his lap as he sits, now facing the inn a hundred paces away.

“W--will you tell me--” he stops and shakes his head, and you understand that he is respectfully trying to ask about your past without triggering you. You smile, and kiss his visor, nodding slowly.

“I--well, I mean, you know the start of it.” you state.

He sat quietly. “I know, but I’m listening if you need to talk.” You nod, breathing deeply. Talking about your experience would definitely lessen the effects of the triggers.

“Well, as you know, I was born in a small mining town. Kyyba. I never really knew my parents because they died before I was a year old.” you sat next to him again, looking at the beautiful flowers in the distance. “So my Uncle Taru raised me. I don’t think he was ever meant to have children, but he was never unkind or abusive. He just didn’t know how to raise a child.” You smiled, remembering the sandy little village tucked away in the shade between two large rock outcroppings. “When I was about ten, the village was attacked. Tusken Raiders had been paid off by the traders in Ba’Aki Station 12, acting almost as mercenaries on their behalf. In a matter of minutes, my small town was wiped off the map. The adults were killed, and the children were taken.” 

You wince at the memory of being taken, your underfed frame easily swiped up by the large almost reptilian trader. You remember being shoved into a cage in the back of a speeder with a half dozen other kids, all screaming in terror, having witnessed their families murdered. Mando’s arm pulls you in close, shaking you from the painful memory. You look over at his helmet, trained on you, desperately looking for any kind of comforting expression in that expressionless mask.

“Before I even knew what was happening, I was in a cage that was too small, surrounded by other terrified children.” you shook your head. “We never screamed. We never cried, because we were told we were going to be killed if we did.” You breathe deeply, steadying yourself, feeling the water with your hands, trying to keep yourself in the present moment, reminding yourself that you are safe.

“After several weeks, we were tattooed as livestock and taught to pickpocket. The more we stole, the more food we would get, so you learned tricks quickly.”

“How did you learn how to fly?” he asks, voice calm and gentle.

“As I got older, the slavers saw that I was bringing in a lot of credits, so they started giving me other tasks as well. I guess, in a sick way, you could say that I got a promotion.” you joke, a tight, sideways smile forming on your mouth. The traders started “tending to” folks’ ships that were passing through the Station. So while these people would use our hangars, I was charged with “fixing” their ships. Anything valuable that could be taken unnoticed was removed. As more and more ships came through, I learned my way around the mechanics. Each ship was different and offered an opportunity to learn something new.” 

You turn your left arm over looking at your ugly tattoo. “But one day I got the stupid idea that I’d try to escape.” you drop your head in shame, remembering what happened. 

“Many years prior, a rich guy had come through that I had pickpocketed many credits from. When I saw him again a year ago, I panicked, unsure if he would remember that I had stolen from him.” you clear your throat, unable to look at the Mandalorian, even if you couldn’t read his reaction. “That guy was Grem Lento, Tripp’s father.” you sat silently for a second, waiting for him to react. When he didn’t, you continued carefully.

“He had this fancy ship chock full of redundant wiring, expensive panelling, you name it. I took whatever I could get my hands on without making it obvious. But when I saw he was sitting down in a meeting with some marketfolk, I had the bright idea to take the ship. The issue was, I had been so distracted and removed so much wiring that the thing hardly flew at all.” you shook your head.

“I remember getting up into the air and instinctively flying it towards Kyyba, thinking for whatever reason that it would still be there. I ended up crashing it in the desert not far from the station. As you can imagine, he was furious, and threatened my life before jetting back off in another ship.” you wring your hands.

“I spent the last year I was stuck on that planet in a cage too small for even a Jawa, constantly in pain, only surviving off of the kindness of the children around me, sharing their earned portions with me.”

“How did you escape when you hopped on my ship?” Mando asked, remaining gentle and calm.

“I was able to steal that blaster I had from the armed guards patrolling my cage and kill them before blowing that place sky high. I blasted open every single cage remaining in that hellhole, setting everyone remaining free.” you finished your story breathing heavily, almost unaware that you had just rambled on. 

“I hope you don’t think less of me now, knowing what I’ve done.” before you even finished speaking the sentence, Mando was shaking his head violently.

“ _ Stars,  _ no.” he moved around to be sitting in front of you, holding your arms steady, making eye contact as best he could through the visor. “You are the bravest, smartest, kindest person I’ve ever met. You are a  _ survivor. _ I’m proud of you, and  _ so  _ sorry you endured what you had to.” he held your face in his warm hands. “I promise to keep you safe as long as you are with me.”

You smile, your heart flooding with warmth and happiness, trusting the words he spoke. You swam forward into his arms, and he eagerly scooped you up. You felt in your heart something that you’d never felt before in your life. A trusting, unconditional warmth spread through you. A truth that made more sense than life itself. You spoke the words, placing them firmly into existence in the Universe.

“I love you, Din Djarin.” 


	8. The Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEAVY HEAVY DIRTY SMUT. BRACE YOURSELVES.

#  Chapter 8: The Bonds

Din held her, stunned into silence from hearing his own name, prefixed by those words.  _ She loves me?  _ A thousand emotions were running through his brain, from fuming anger at those who harmed her, to yearning for her healing, to confusion, to sheer and undeniable love. He didn’t feel worthy of it. He didn’t feel worthy of  _ her _ and her care. Here she sat, begging for him to open up and tell the truth about his life, willingly opening up about hers, and he couldn’t even bring himself to tell her  _ why  _ he was at Ba’Aki Station 12 in the first place.

She had opened up about something clearly incredibly painful  _ wanting _ him to know her, and he gave her the TL/DR version of his story. All of the things he had done, all of the things he had seen while she was trapped in a box, and he told her about none of it. 

He shook himself out of it, reminded that she had just spoken, his heart again filling with warmth. “Say it again.” he begged, desperate to hear his own name from her lips.

A smile again graced her beautiful face, which had fallen with concern at his silence. “I love you, Din Djarin.” Whatever ice had formed around his heart melted in an instant. Any wall he had put up to guard himself from emotions crumbled under those words. He was suddenly not a Mandalorian; he was a person. Vulnerable. Open. Loved.

To hear his own name, from  _ her _ mouth, surrounded by  _ those _ words broke down every barrier he had ever built.

“I love you.” was all he could whisper back, barely loud enough for her to hear it. She threw her arms around his neck and he held her in as tight as he could. He felt again the earth-shattering emotion he had first felt meeting the child: a grounding, purposeful, powerful love. With those words, his purpose in this galaxy became clear: to protect and love this girl and child. He spoke her name into her neck, as if her name was the only thing holding him together.

He pulled her back and looked at her beautiful face, desperate to kiss her. “Close your eyes for me, beautiful.” She obliged, smiling, and he knew he could trust her. He tilted his helmet up just enough to press his lips to hers, kissing her with newfound meaning. He pulled her close into him, feeling her body curl into his. He held the back of her head with his left hand, deepening his kiss, wanting to make her feel as loved as she was.  _ Love. This is what love feels like. _

He swam backwards to be sitting again on the rocks with his back to the inn, pulling her along with him. He kissed down her jawline, her long, slim neck, her collarbone. “Keep your eyes shut for me, my love.” She seemed to open for him, pressing herself forward into his mouth, her hands weaving up his helmet and through his curly hair as he pulled her legs to straddle his lap. She moaned as he slid his hands down her back, pulling her hips closer to him.

He kissed his way back up her neck finding her mouth again with his, hoping that she felt half as much in love as he did. In one swift, but gentle motion, he slipped inside her, groaning as her body accepted him. He moved his hips slowly, watching her body move and react, feeling her soft center pulse and pull him in.

His hands tangled in her hair, pulling gently to expose her neck and jawline again, her body moaning with pleasure as he kissed and bit on her outline, worshiping every inch. He couldn’t get enough of her body, pulling her as close as it would allow.

Her warm body grew wet as he thrusted again and again inside her, each time pulling him inside, wanting him as much as he wanted her. Both of her hands tangled in his hair under his tilted helmet as she began to ride him. Her hips moved back and forth, sending electricity pulsing through his body with each movement. He growled deep in his throat as her mouth found his again, speaking the words “I love you” between each kiss.

He slid a hand down her front finding her mound and pressing a finger on her clit. Her head snapped back, her breasts pushing up to the stars as she screamed with pleasure. He moved his fingers in pulsing circles in time with her hips, wanting to make her cum. “Say my name.” he growled, biting her neck as she sent his vision to stars. It took his entire concentration and strength to keep from cumming immediately. His stomach and arms tense, but wanting her to climax first.

“Din, oh  _ stars, _ Din!” she screamed, quickening her tempo, making him clench and bite his own lip as he watched her climb towards climax. “Din, I’m--oh  _ stars,  _ I’m going to--” she screamed and writhed in pleasure as she came hard.

He ground his own hips in, holding her in place, feeling her body pull him in with each thrust. “Oh  _ stars”  _ he growled, burying his head in her shoulder. She held his head there and whispered into his ear “cum for me Din.” as his body suddenly rocketed towards climax, every inch of himself becoming rigid as he finished inside her, feeling her warm body pulsing with pleasure.

He panted, laying his head on her shoulder still, noticing the electricity that seemed to be jumping between his skin and hers. He kissed her once more, whispering “I love you” into her mouth before lowering his helmet again. 

_ _ _

As if you could sleep that night.  _ HA.  _ As if.

  
  


You laid there staring at the ceiling,  _ Din  _ sleeping next to you peacefully with his helmet on, his arm wrapped around your middle. Your head was absolutely spinning from the events of the day.  _ This is a lot to unpack. _

You decide to get up and splash some warm water on your face to calm down. Your heart was still pounding as if you had just run a marathon. You lean on the sink in the restroom, trying to steady yourself, but ultimately coming to the realization that nothing was sleep was never going to come.

Outside the bedroom in the suite was a small living space with comfortable chairs and tables. Din had dumped most of your items out here, and you decided to take the opportunity to make sure everything was working correctly for his trip over to Coruscant. Call in tinkering, call it worrying, you just needed to do something with your hands to occupy your racing mind.

You had just admitted to each other that you  _ loved _ one another, and he was about to go off on a dangerous hunt for a dangerous quarry in a dangerous place where you wouldn’t be able to contact him. For days. You slammed your eyes shut, trying to rid your mind of the panic.

  
  


Within an hour, you had disassembled, and reassembled two blasters and his rifle, optimized and reinforced wiring in his jetpack system, patched each hole in his flight suit and cape, and polished the beskar. You realized that most, if not all of these busy tasks were unimportant, but for whatever reason you couldn’t stop yourself. 

You placed all of his items down, trying to arrange them in the easiest to assemble pattern. With nothing left of his to tinker with, you decided to optimize your own new blaster. Intrusive thoughts of him getting into trouble on Coruscant flashed through your mind and you tried your best to shake them away. Your hands operated independently of your mind, disassembling the blaster piece by piece. You were almost in a zone, eyes not even focusing on what they were doing as you fought the internal battle against the image of Din being attacked by more sentries.

You were immediately shaken from your fog as a panicked shuffling came from the bedroom. You jumped in your seated position on the floor as a helmeted figure appeared in the bedroom door, blaster pointed at your head.

“ _ Fuck _ , Din! It’s just me!” you whispered, checking the child’s pod to see if the ruckus had woken him up. Thankfully, tiny, squeaking snores came from the pod. Din dropped the blaster and collapsed against the door’s threshold.

“Fuck that scared me. I saw you were gone and I heard the sound of blaster parts and panicked. I’m sorry.” he stated, setting the blaster in his hand down on the table in front of him. He walked over, helping you up to your feet. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, brushing your hair behind your ear. You shake your head, leaning your cheek into his hand.

“I fixed your stuff, though.” you breathed a laugh, looking over your shoulder at the pile behind you. “You know, for weapons being your  _ religion _ and all, you really take shitty care of your blasters.” You jested.

He shook his head. “You are mocking a  _ Mandalorian _ about his  _ weapons _ .” He laughed darkly. “I should punish you for that.” 

You looked at him through your brows. “You could try.” You stepped back, looking him up and down, noticing him growing hard. “But you should know I’m a fighter.”

He took one step forward. “Is that a threat?” he asked, grabbing his crotch, forcing your eyes to follow his hand. Heat pooled between your legs. Now that you knew he could see your thermal signature, you watched his body react slightly to you getting turned on. A sly smile crept across your face, loving that your body could do this to him. 

You traced one hand down your centerline slowly, watching his body react and shift mere millimeters. You grabbed your breast with one hand and cupped between your legs with the other. The only thing that moved on him was his chest as it breathed heavily. Everything else was stone.  _ This is too easy. _ You smiled, turned on by the control you had over him just with your body. He was one of the most formidable and fierce creatures in the galaxy and  _ you _ were able to make him squirm under his skin. 

You wanted to see how much control he had over himself, so you grabbed a small knife that normally was strapped to the outside of your right boot and slid your way over to him. You pressed the knife point very lightly on his sternum, careful to not cut the material. You looked up at his visor as he remained a stone structure, only moving his head to look at the knife, then up at you. You slowly dragged the knife down his stomach and even slower back up again. His head followed you as you stepped to his left, dragging the point of the knife over his pec, looking up at him with heavy eyes.  _ Such control he has. _ The tip of the knife dragged over his rounded left shoulder muscle, over his shoulder blades, and over his right shoulder.

In a flash, as the knife touched his right pec, his hand came up hitting your wrist, bouncing the knife into the air. He caught it in his right hand, spun you around with his left, and held you tightly against his chest, knife tip facing you.

His helmet drops to your ear level as he purrs “You dare threaten a Mandalorian with a knife?”. Holding you still, he flips the knife, catches it, and throws it against the wall, the blade whacking into the wood with a  _ thwang. _

You were distracted, amazed at his accuracy without even looking where he was throwing, causing you to bark a laugh loudly. His hand slammed against your mouth shushing you at once. “ _ Shhh,  _ girl. You’re going to wake the baby.” You giggle under his hand.

In a single motion, he turned you around and picked you up so that you were flopped over his shoulder. He turned and carried you into the bedroom effortlessly, shutting the door closed behind him with his foot. He playfully threw you on the bed, landing on your back.

“In all seriousness for a moment, is it going to bother you if I tie your hands?” He asks, speaking quietly. You smile, and slowly shake your head.

“It would bother me if you didn’t.” You coo. “But you’re going to have to catch me first.” You leap off the bed, creating a physical barrier between you and him. His body shifts, moving to stand like a predator about to pounce. His muscles coiled, his head low, his arms wide, waiting and watching your every move.

You move back and forth, watching him mirror your movements, not even trying to hide your smile. In a flash, a grapple line flew out from his wrist and shot towards you, wrapping your hands up in a cold wire.  _ How did he even grab that from the other room?  _ You were completely stunned, but smiled regardless as the grapple line slowly, slowly reeled you into the Mandalorian. 

“You have been bad.” he purrs, putting space between each word. He keeps the grapple wire around your wrists, and pulls you in with one hand. “If you want me to stop at any time, you say  _ Gedet’ye,  _ okay?”

“G-Gedet’ye?” you repeat

“Yes. It means ‘please’ in Mando’a.” he states. You nod slowly, waiting for him to move again. “Now, get down on your knees.” the Mandalorian demands. A smile blooms across your face as you slowly sink down to your knees. 

His hand grabs your throat in lightspeed. At first his grip is tight, but then he loosens to swipe a gloveless thumb over your jawbone. “Give me your hands.” he demands, as you raise your wire-tied wrists. From behind his back he produces beskar binders an inch thick. “I only use these for the most dangerous quarries...or the ones I want to control.” he states, dangling them in front of you on his index finger. 

The cold beskar slams around your wrists in front of you as the Mandalorian tightens them to your thin wrists. You look up at him and smile coyly, lips curling almost into a snarl. “If you think these are going to hold me, Mandalorian, you’re wrong.” you spit, standing quickly to look him in his visor.

“You  _ are _ a brat today, aren’t you?” he states, sweeping your legs out from underneath you, forcing you back to your knees. He takes a step forward, grabbing the binders to force your face towards his crotch. “Well, we’re going to have to find a way to shut you up.” with his other hand he buries your face into his crotch, and you can feel him rapidly growing hard. You open your mouth to gently bite his dick through his pants.

He drops your bound hands for a moment, demanding “Undo my pants.” you oblige, looking at his visor watching you, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Take off your shirt.” you demand. You were going to continue being a brat until he did something about it. 

“You first.” he demanded.

“And how do you propose I do  _ that _ ?” you spit, raising your bound hands to remind him. He shook his head and dragged you back to your feet . His hands flew under your shirt and ripped it up over your head, letting the fabric fall down your arms and to your bound wrists. He stuffed and wrapped some of the fabric under your binds, further restricting your movement.

In one easy motion, he lifts you up with one arm under your asscheeks, pressing your legs to his strong chest. He shoots his grapple hook high up towards the ceiling, wrapping the wire around the chandelier anchor, and tying the loose end around the center of the binders. Like a pulley, he pulls and hangs you by your binds from the chandelier anchor above. 

You wriggled in his grip as he released you, leaving you to dangle in the middle of the room. He circled you, coming to a stop in front of you, looking into your eyes to see if you were going to break. But you didn’t break. And you  _ weren’t  _ going to say the safe word. Besides, you were just getting started. So instead you looked him right in the visor and raised an eyebrow like the brat you were. He shook his head, but you knew he was smiling under there.

He stepped forward, slowly undoing your pants, pulling them down lower and lower until they slipped off of your legs, leaving you hanging there naked. But he didn’t touch you at first. He stepped back and observed you like an artist, crossing one arm over his chest, the other hand resting on his chin like he was critiquing a piece of fine art. He circled you, moving slowly and carefully around behind you until you couldn’t see him. Your breath quickened.

Two hands traced your curves on either side of your body from behind you, giving you goosebumps in the trail left by his hands. He spanks you hard and you gasp, surprised by the sudden sting. You wriggle in your binders, holding onto the wire with your hands as he spanks you again. You bite your lip, loving the tiny sting it left.

He circles back around in front of you, checking your face for pain or discomfort and finding instead defiance and strength. You were determined to beat him in his mental game. 

Your arms were going a little numb from being raised above your heart for so long, but this was nothing. You were a seasoned expert in discomfort.

The Mandalorian pulled the pulley, inching you higher and higher off the ground so that your now soaking wet pussy was right at his face level. You looked down and watched as his hand slowly slid up the inside of your legs, causing the muscles in your inner thighs to pull together instinctively. Each inch he climbed forced your heart to beat that much faster, his erection obvious through his pants. 

He forced your legs apart, effortlessly holding your right leg open as his right hand found your wet pussy, pressing all four fingers against your opening. You gasp as his hand presses against you, his fingers and thumb gripping you, claiming you. 

You watch as he tilts his helmet up, exposing his mouth, but from this angle you can’t see his face. Not that it mattered, your vision went to stars as he kissed the inside of your legs, creeping his way upwards towards your pussy. Each kiss elevating your heart rate and breathing, anticipating him touching you. You could hear your heartbeat pound in your ears. Sweat plastered your hair to your face and your skin became hypersensitive, begging for his touch.

He pulled back for a second, careful to keep the helmet positioned so that you couldn’t see his face. He spat a warm wad on your clit and immediately planted his face hard in between your legs, pressing his tongue flat against your throbbing pussy. You almost screamed.

He slowly licked all the way up to your clit, spreading his tongue flat against your opening, forcing you to feel every inch, every taste bud, every minute muscle movement in his mouth. Your chest caved in, goosebumps radiating tingling pleasure over the surface of your body. Again he licked you, squeezing your asscheeks in his strong hands, pulling your dangling body closer to his face. From between your legs he growled something feral. 

  
  


“ _ Fuck _ , Din.” you moan, loving how he reacted every time you said his name. He seemed to grow more animalistic each time his skin touched yours. So many years touch-starved had built up something indescribable inside him.

  
  


His mouth found your clit, sucking gently as his tongue teased it with feathery flicks. Your body writhed and contorted, overstimulated by the sudden sensation. His mouth sucking your entire clit, in and out over and over. The air around you seemed to pulse and grow thick. Your hands clenched and grasped at the air, desperate to touch him, to grab his hair. Din thrust three large fingers inside you, continuing to suck and tongue-fuck your clit, causing you to scream.

He suddenly dropped you using the pulley, catching you with one arm around your waist. “You better shut your mouth, girl. You’re going to wake the whole town.” He hums, helmet inches from your face. You drop your bound hands around his neck, relieved to be able to feel your arms again. He turns and throws you onto the large bed effortlessly before tossing a pillow at the lightswitch, casting the room into darkness. You are left blind as you watch his dark silhouette walk in front of the window and remove his helmet, knowing you can’t see any of his features. Your mouth drops open at the scandal.

The silhouette watches you as he undoes his pants, each movement highlighting his muscles against the dim light behind him. You were awestruck watching his wide shoulders move as he took up nearly the entire window frame. How in the galaxy had you landed someone as incredible as him? His head never moves as he strips in front of you, still unable to see his features. Warmth floods between your legs knowing that he was just as turned on by you as you were by him. 

He draws closed the blinds, submerging you in complete blindness. Other senses immediately try to compensate for the lack of vision. Your skin grows goosebumps, reaching out for any sense of movement, your ears straining against the sudden quiet.  _ Such a bounty hunter. _

The quiet darkness feels heavy around you, completely sensory deprived. You notice yourself smiling widely, enjoying this ridiculous little game you were playing. But how could he see you when you couldn’t see a thing? You had seen him take off his helmet, so you knew he wasn’t using the infrared or thermal spectrum to find you in the dark…

Like lightning, your legs are swung to the side of the bed, your arms pulled so that you’re sitting on the edge, still unaware of the location of your lover. From the darkness above you, through an unmodulated voice, he hums “Tilt your head up and open your mouth.” You smile as your eyes search in the darkness for any discernible shapes or forms. You open your mouth just slightly, wondering if he can see anything at all in this pitch. “Stick out your tongue.” the darkness commands.

You flinch just slightly as he spits on your open mouth, careless about the aim. “I’m going to shut you up, girl.” he states, lacing fingers through your hair and gripping a large clump firmly. His massive cock is pressed into your mouth, his hand gliding his swollen tip along your lips. You moan against the soft skin of the head of his dick. He takes that opportunity to thrust himself inside you, filling your mouth entirely. He groans as he presses his hips forward, slowly face-fucking you, each time nearly choking you. 

Over and over again he thrusts inside of your mouth, as you suck on his hard dick. You cough and gag each time he removes himself in the slightest, taking the opportunity to breathe. With your bound hands, you gently grasp his balls, causing him to groan deeply in his throat. You moan a reply at the sound.

His fingers squeeze your hair, pushing your face deeper and deeper. You struggle only slightly when it becomes hard to breathe. Spit drips out of the sides of your mouth, streaming sticky warm liquid down your chin and neck. “ _ Fuck _ , girl.” he moans from above, “your mouth…” 

You press yourself forward, arching your back and pressing your tender breasts against his thighs as he continues thrusting deep into your throat. You take advantage of the angle to touch yourself with your bound hands. Your pussy puckers, instinctively reacting to the slightest touch, overly sensitive and begging for attention. You pray to the stars that he fucks you hard. Stars flood your vision, as your hair is pulled back hard, cranking your neck at an uncomfortable angle. “Are you  _ touching _ yourself, you filthy girl?” Din growls from above.

A hand shoots around your neck, choking you firmly, but not uncomfortably. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” He speaks into your ear. Chills rocket down your spine as his breath kisses the side of your neck. In a flash, he backs away, again disappearing into the darkness. You can’t feel him, you can’t hear him, and you certainly can’t see him. For a long minute, your eyes grow wide, frantically searching in the pitch dark for any sign of movement. Again, your ears strain against the darkness. Nothing.  _ How does he  _ do  _ that?! _

A squeal erupts from your mouth as two strong arms grip you from behind and pulls you backwards onto the bed. Your face is shoved into the pillows at the head of the bed, your hips pulled up high by large, strong hands. A hand connects with your asscheek, leaving a stinging welt as he spanks you. You chew on your bottom lip and wring the pillows in your hands. A deep, longing groan erupts from your throat. “ _ Please,  _ Din.” you beg. A breathy, satisfied laugh rings out behind you.

You hear him spit again, the warm wad landing on your asshole causing your body to flinch in response.  _ Oh fu-- _ . His large thumb presses against your asshole and your body convulses in response, collapsing flat onto the bed. 

“No you don’t.” he commands, wrenching your hips back up again. Your bottom lip is raw with anticipation. Again his thumb finds you and not a second later, the swollen head of his dick is pressed against your pussy. Your body offered no resistance as he slipped his entirety inside you, the two of you moaning in satisfaction in time. For a moment, he doesn’t move, he just stays there, feeling your pussy pucker and pull around him, breathing heavily.

He thrusts hard, pressing his thumb against your asshole, shoving your whole body forward and you try and fail to stifle a scream. His free hand shoves your face into the pillows, pounding you from behind. Something about this angle is hitting your spot directly, making you dizzy with pleasure. “Oh fuck, Din, right there” you scream, voice raspy.

He grips your hair, cranking your neck back, making it difficult, but not impossible to breathe. His thumb presses harder into your ass, entering you slightly. The new sensation is borderline overwhelming. That, combined with his consistent pounding behind you is causing your muscles to spasm with pleasure. “Please don’t stop. I’m so close” you beg, as he speeds up, thrusting both his dick and thumb deeper inside you, pounding your G-spot over and over. Your body tightens in your center, electricity buzzing between your thighs, then rocketing up your spine, causing your ears to pop with a powerful climax. You scream as it crashes in waves over and over again. Din shoves your face back down into the pillows in a poor attempt to quiet you.

He adjusts positions, rock-solid legs moving underneath you to face you head on. You’re still blind and now partially deaf as your bound hands are pulled up and over a strong, sweaty neck. Breathy laughter rings out from the space inches in front of you, you reciprocate. You position your legs so that they are wrapped around his middle as he sits up right on the bed, his hands guiding your hips down onto his throbbing dick. You shutter and your chest collapses as he again fills every inch of you.

His hips move rapidly underneath you and you quickly match his pace in time. You curl your arms up around his head, pressing him into your chest. Gentle bites and kisses on your breasts are bound by his moans. His pleasure becomes yours, as the game of domination inevitably crumbles into the bliss of love. He pounds you from beneath, jetting you again closer and closer to climax.

His body begins to tighten underneath you, and as if mirroring his, yours begins to pulse and buzz. Your pussy pulls hard as you hear him growl and swear his way through a hard orgasm, continuing to move your hips with his hands, desperate to have you cum again, too. Your fingers lace though his thick hair and your hips pulling tight into him, your body explodes in climax causing you to scream loudly. Unashamed. 

Laughter, genuine, heartfelt laughter erupts from Din’s mouth as he pulls you down to lay on the bed. “Is there  _ nothing _ that will shut you up?” he laughs. You giggle in return, loving the rare sound of an unmodulated Mandalorian laughing, unrestrained.

“Let them know. Who cares?” you laugh, pulling him close into a kiss, his warm lips pressed against yours. “Now can you take these fucking things off of me?” you bark.

_____

You straightened the child’s robes as he sat next to you, making an absolute mess of the bowl of porridge in front of him. He looked up at you and said “ _ Euh _ ”.

“You’re welcome.” you replied, unsure of what he was actually saying.  _ One day I’ll understand you, kid. _ You sipped the warm drink in front of you, avoiding thinking about the fact that Din was leaving today. You were aware that he was only going to be gone for a few days but you couldn’t shake this uncomfortable feeling about being separated. 

_ I have a bad feeling about this. _

_ _ _

Din pulled on his jetpack, slinging the rifle over his shoulder. His jaw clenched thinking about leaving the girl and the kid alone on a strange moon, regardless of how short a time they were going to be apart. 

He shut the door to the suite after trying his best to straighten up after the previous night's events. He smiled thinking about her, still awestruck that a woman like  _ that _ was here...that a woman like  _ that _ loved him. He walked into the dining area where Rhiina was trying to pass a bag of leftovers onto the girl, insistent about feeding the little one. He laughed and shook his head, glad for good company. 

The girl looked over at him, laughing at the scene. “Help me, Mando. She won’t take no for an answer!” she begged jokingly.

He just shook his head. “No way. I learned last night at dinner that Rhiina doesn’t take ‘no’s’.” He sat down, throwing his arm around the girl and watching as her body’s thermal signature responded to his presence.  _ Control yourself, Din. You’re not an animal. _ While they had slept a little after the raucous activities of the previous night, his body was still warm and buzzing from the sex. Clearly, hers was too.

“That’s right.” Rhiina said. “You take this and the bag of supplies I put by the door. End of discussion.” She turned and headed back towards the kitchen, trying and failing to hide a smile. Din liked her. He secretly wished he could leave the two here instead of with some stranger, but arrangements had already been made. Plus, he needed a security code sequence from the blacksmith to get into the hangars on the outskirts of the Red Light district on Coruscant.

“You two about ready to hit the road? Urrm is prepping the cart as we speak.” He looked over at the girl and she nodded quickly, the smile fading from her face. “I wish we could fly over there, but this moon has some pretty strict flight standards. Pick-ups and drop-offs only.” he shook his head. He would drop her off at the blacksmiths, ensuring her safety, get the code sequence and then get back on the cart to head to the ship.

“No, that’s okay. It will give us that much more time together before you head off, and it gives the kiddo and I a chance to get to know the surrounding area!” she turned to him, offering a fake smile that he saw right through. His heart broke a little.

  
  
  


Urrm helped to load the bag of supplies his wife had sent, which turned out to be full of homemade meals, some clothes, and extra blankets. “I tried to tell her that you had probably already packed, but she insisted.” Urrm stated in Baluuric. Din laughed.

“Well, tell her it is much appreciated. It is nice to know someone else on this moon cares for these two as much as I do.” He replied, strapping down the bags in the large wooden cart. He wasn’t a fan of this primitive-style of travel, but there was nothing he could do about the flight restrictions. 

Baby bouncing happily in her hands, the girl and Rhiina emerged from the inn, giggling the whole way. The sound warmed his heart. As they got to the back of the cart, Rhiina held her arms out to hug the two goodbye. “And if you need anything, you just come right back here.” The girl nodded, offering a genuine smile to Rhiina.

“Thank you, Rhiina. I will.” She replied, turning and walking up to Din. Din rubbed one of the kid’s ears, smiling as he giggled at the touch.

He nodded his head towards the cart. “Come on, gorgeous. We have to get moving.” He watched as her heart grew warmer at his words, his body mirroring her reaction. He turned to Rhiina. “Thank you for everything, Rhiina.” he stated, offering his hand. She looked at it as if it offended her, and then pulled him into an uncomfortable hug.

“You better take care of them, Mandalorian. You have something special there.” she stated, just loud enough for him to hear. He nodded into her shoulder. 

“I will.” He replied quietly.

Just minutes later, Rhiina’s figure was shrinking as they made their way to Naavini in the back of the Fathier cart. Din swore he saw her wipe a tear from her eye before turning to head back inside.


	9. The Blacksmith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long. Things have been tough on my end, but I should have more chapters coming soon.

#  Chapter 9: The Blacksmith

Naavini was a larger town with taller buildings and bigger crowds. Urrm had pulled the cart up to the Fathier stables on the outskirts of the town, the rounded structure crawling with the tall, gentle creatures. From the outer edge of the city, Din could see a massive tree in the center of the town, magnitudes larger than any others on the planet. He figured that the landmark must be the central point of the town, making a mental note to fly over when he left for Coruscant.

He pressed a button on his wrist control to make the kid’s pod follow behind the two of them. He guided the girl to walk beside him as they made their way into town, looking back over to Urrm and stating in Baluuric “I’ll be back in about a standard hour’s time. Thank you again, Urrm.” He nodded in reply.

As the three of them walked towards the center of town, Din scanned the faces of each person passed, making himself as big as he could. If he was going to leave her here, he was going to make damn sure that the locals remembered who she was with, and what they were up against if they did anything to harm her. An anger began to burn a low flame in his gut, a primal, animalistic possessiveness over his ragtag little family. He was unable to control his selfishness when it came to those he cared about. 

Luckily, his mannerisms did not go unnoticed. Every local that passed stared with wide eyes at him, willing his image to be implanted in their minds.  _ Yeah, that’s right. You remember me. If you fuck with her, you fuck with me. _ His gut seared.

His hardness was suddenly shattered as the girl reached for his hand and held it gently, her hand small curled within his. He melted under his beskar, suddenly becoming the man under the mask at her touch.

Two colorfully-robed guards stood at the gated entrance to the inner city, their elaborate red and gold fabrics billowing in the cool breeze. Din smiled darkly as the pair straightened their spines, testing their size against his, failing to even meet his chin. He loomed over them, unashamed.

“Where is the blacksmith?” he stated in a tone that was more of a command than an ask, his baritone lower than usual.

The guard in front of him smirked, looking over his beskar. “Four streets past the Mothertree square on the northside. You’ll hear it before you see it.” the guard took a half step forward, trying to measure up to Din, and failing. “But he doesn’t work with beskar,  _ Mandalorian. _ ” the guard spat.

Din stood his ground for a beat, allowing his stature to dwarf and minimize the guard. He grabbed the girl’s hand and stepped around the guards with a single stride, his cape whipping the guard as he moved. The girl’s body tensed, but grew warm in her center. He smiled under his helmet satisfied, knowing that she was turned on by his displays of power.

The square was bigger than the one in Urrm’s town. Roots from the massive Mothertree emerged from the base of the tree, forming naturally walled-off areas with folks sitting down playing a board game with carved wooden pieces and circular markings. Sunshine speckled and danced through the shadows of the leaves high above the square. A string of exposed-bulb lights hung from poles encircling the base of the massive tree.

Din looked over at the girl whose neck was cranked back to look up at the leaves high above, mouth open wide in awe. A smile cracked across his face. “Come on, gorgeous.” he placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the square, casting threatening glares to anyone who dare glance in her direction.

The further they got away from the town square, the smaller and dirtier the streets became. The looks from those around him became more threatening than in the obviously more affluent town square. This was the neglected part of town, and by no fault of their own, these people lived here in the shadow of the greater parts of Naavini. It wasn’t as bad as some parts of Tatooine or Tar-V1, where obviously homeless drifters lived in doorways and alleys, but these people were hardened, regardless.

Rhythmic, continuous clanking came from the end of a street cast in the shadow of the Mothertree. It was so dark on the street that the solar lights had turned on overhead and the glow of the hot forge cast a circle of soft, orange light around the entrance of the building. Something in Din’s gut tightened as he looked down the dark laneway. He spun the girl around to face him. He scanned her face for any kind of concern or discomfort, but found none. Perhaps all of his worry was just in anticipation of being separated from them.

“Last check before we go meet this guy. You have your blaster?” Din asked.

She nodded, patting her right thigh holster. “Yep.”

“Knife?”

She reached down to her boot and pulled out the dagger that had been pointed at his chest the night prior. “Yessir.”

“Communicator?”

She raised her left forearm to show him, the Mudhorn insignia glimmering in the low light. “On and ready to receive.”

Din nodded, giving her a once over. “Good. Now remember that thing won’t work between here and Coruscant, but if you need me until I leave the atmosphere, don’t hesitate.” She nodded, understanding. She reached over to pick up the child from the pod, the kid remaining oddly silent. He must have sensed something too. Din furrowed his brow. If she was uncomfortable in the slightest, she was doing a damn good job of hiding it. 

Din nodded again and began walking towards the open door. 

_ _ _

Your insides were in complete knots, but you were determined to put on a brave face. Naavini’s town center had stunned you with its beauty. The massive tree bigger than anything you had ever seen, the colorful robes of the town’s residents, the lights, the movement, it all was magnificent. But here it was darker. The shadow of the tree cast this part of town into a darkness unseen in other neighborhoods. You silently wondered if your new friend Fennec might have been deceiving Mando all along.

But still, you smiled, not wanting Mando to leave you here and worry. You had been through worse than staying in a dark part of town anyway.

Din entered the doorway first, knocking on the threshold with his knuckles. The rhythmic clanking stopped. From the curtained doorway in the back, a large Dashade man appeared, filling the entire doorway. His face was hardened in a frown, his hands weather worn. The Dashade glanced over the three of you and suddenly his brows raised, softening his face from the intimidating stare he’d inflicted upon you moments ago.

The large man with his dark, olive green skin covered in small horns approached Mando, extending a hand. In a deep, but kind voice, he rang “You must be the Mandalorian that Shand mentioned!” Din seemed to sigh in relief, shaking his hand, but maintaining his guard. 

“I am.” he stated sternly.

“Good. I’m S’karet Ughel. Come on back, and we’ll talk business.” The large man waved his three-fingered hand. He was a huge creature, even for a Dashade.

Mando looked over to you and spoke quietly. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice low. You nodded, smiling gently at him. He caressed your cheek with his gloved hand before following S’karet. You savored the touch.

S’karet motioned to a set of chairs across the table from where he was sitting. The child squirmed in your arms as he looked over to the forge in the corner. The room was hot, but not terribly uncomfortable in comparison with where you came from.

“So how do you know Shand?” S’karet asks, placing two large arms on the table. You tried to read his face. He seemed kind, perhaps just using the hardness of his initial look as a defense mechanism. He glanced between you and Mando for an answer. 

“Old work friends.” Mando stated shortly. “You?” he asked. You could tell he was also trying to get a read on this guy, perhaps cautious out of protection of you and the child. Mando’s spine was straight and his muscles were tense. He seemed to radiate tension from under his beskar. You looked down at the kiddo who was staring with wide eyes at S’karet. You kissed the top of his head, shushing him.

“Same.” he started, smiling and looking down at his large hands. “I wasn’t a bounty hunter or a part of the guild, but Shand and I worked and trained together often.” he shook his head. “So many things we’ve been through together.” he breathed a laugh, smiling knowingly. “When she told me that a friend needed some help, I didn’t hesitate.” he looked back up across the table. “But I know nothing of what you need except a room for them.” he nodded at you and the kid.

“Fennec also said you might have an old security code sequence to get me into the hangars on Coruscant.” Mando stated, clearly guarded.

“Ahh. That explains it.” S’karet nodded his head grandly, clearly understanding something you didn’t. He continued nodding. “I have an old code, but I’m not sure if it works any longer.” He got up, and walked to the back corner of the room, opening a large sealed box next to the forge. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been over there, but I’m happy to share.” Mando didn’t move a muscle but his head, his helmet glued on the Dashade.

S’karet came back to the table setting a small bowl of chowder down in front of you. “I figured, if the little one is hungry…” he shrugged big shoulders, sitting back down. You smiled graciously at him

“Thank you!” you said, smelling the herbaceous aroma of the thick chowder in front of you. The kid babbled happily and grasped towards the bowl. Seeing the kid relax a little must have eased Mando, too, because he sank back slightly in his chair

“Sure thing.” S’karet smiled. You felt a little guilty being uncomfortable at first around him, realizing that he probably deals with that a lot. “Let me show you to your room, and then I’ll grab the code sequence fob.”

  
  
  


The room was actually a small, separate building in the back of the property. The shack was a cozy single room made up almost entirely of wood creating a warm atmosphere. A fire roared in the small hearth bathing the room in a soft light. A single bed was made up in the corner, a quilt of curly fur spread across the foot of the bed. In the opposite corner, a small table was set, a candle glowing dimly in the center. You looked at it and were reminded of the bar table in Canto Bight, the Mandalorian sitting across from you. Your heart skipped at the memory.

A bookshelf stood along the front wall, a few small tokens, books, and pictures decorating the near-barren shelves. A single picture in particular caught your eye. It looked like a less worn S’karet and another Dashade standing in front of a creature they had apparently hunted. “Who is this, S’karet?” you asked gently with a smile. 

His face flashed with pain before smiling again. “That is my son, Tu’vrik and I on a hunting trip many years ago.” kind eyes met yours, deep pain hidden behind an otherwise kind facade. You decided you wouldn’t press the issue and simply smile at him in response.

Mando entered the room, looking around every corner, inspecting every shelf, looking vastly out of place. You shook your head, knowing that he was again doing this out of love and trying to protect you, but you also thought he was being a little rude. You set the kid on the floor and he immediately waddled over to the bookshelf, fascinated by a shiny tauntaun-shaped trinket.

“He’ll be okay in here. Let’s go grab that cod fob.” your host stated, waving an arm out the door graciously.

Mando took his time in the room, though, picking up the little one and adjusting the Mythosaur necklace around his neck. The kid looked up at him, babbling something incomprehensible, showing off the trinket he found. “I’ll only be gone a few days, buddy.” Mando stated quietly, speaking directly to the kid as if you and S’karet weren’t in the room. “Mind your manners, and listen to her when she tells you to do something.” he nodded towards you, your heart breaking slightly as he said goodbye to his kid. He gave him one last hug, petting the back of his head.

Mando set down the child who looked up at you questioningly, saying “ _ Brabah? _ ”. You smiled at the kid, replying “Don’t worry, he’ll be back in a few days. And until then, you and I are going to have a great time here.”

You grabbed Mando’s hand and pulled him along. Immediately he became the hardened Mandalorian again. A machine.

_____

  
  


He brushed your hair behind your ear, rubbing a thumb along your cheekbone. You held his hand there for a moment longer, wishing you could kiss him right now but understanding that there were too many people around that might see his face. “Say the safe word right now and we’ll leave. I’ll make a new plan.” he almost begged. You shook your head.

“Don’t worry about us, Mando. We’ll be okay. Like you said, it’s only a few days. It will fly by.” you stated, not sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. “Just be careful. I don’t know wh--” you swallowed the lump in your throat, shaking your head and smiling back up at his visor.  _ Be strong. Don’t waste the water.  _

You placed your hands on either side of his helmet, pulling it down to meet your lips. “I love you.” you stated, searching for eyes behind that dark visor.

He held your head in his hands. “I love you.”

  
  


You watched as he walked down the dark lane back into the dimming sunshine beyond the tree’s shadow. He looked back once, just before taking the corner back to the main square. You held the image in your head, and nodded as he turned, disappearing from your sight.

_____

A few hours later, you stood in the open back area of the shop property, eyes towards the stars that had just appeared after sunset. You strained your eyes looking at Coruscant, swearing that you could see large freighter ships coming in and out of the atmosphere. At least it was close enough that you could see it glimmering in the sky. 

You hear your name through the speaker on your communicator. You nearly jump out of your skin trying to detach the ear piece and putting it in your ear.

“Mando?!” you state excitedly.

“Hi, gorgeous. You doing okay?” he asks. You can hear a smile on his lips. “I just got back to the ship. Are you standing outside?”

“Yep. We’re all good here, and yes I am. How did you know?” you reply.

“I figured you would be. Give me a minute. I might be breaking Atranian regulations doing a fly-by but I couldn’t care less at this point.” You heard levers being pulled and switches flicked in the background, aware that he was firing up the engines. You were giddy like a little girl.

You ran inside and grabbed the kid off the floor, where he was playing with some small forged metal scraps S’karet had loaned to him. What his fascination was with small metal objects, you’d never know. Metal scraps fell from the baby’s hands as you ran back outside, ears and eyes straining for the sound of the Crest.

Moments passed, silence fell. Your heart pounded.

Then, the sound of thrusters idling low rang out from behind you. You turned, watching the tops of the buildings for the ships to emerge from behind them. Thunderous thrusters roared overhead as the Cresst burst into view. You laughed, knowing that he was making this much noise in an otherwise quiet place on purpose. He was peacocking his power, testing the limits.

“Hello, beautiful.” his modulated voice rang out from your earpiece.

“Hello, handsome. Be safe, please. Come back soon.” you smile through the words, quickly wiping away the single tear you permitted to fall. The Crest turned its nose upwards towards the sky and began climbing slowly towards outer space. The thrusters glowed bright, shedding sky blue light across the property. The ship grew smaller and smaller.

“I love y--” the transmission cut out as the Crest breached the atmosphere. You stood, staring into the space left behind by his ship, sending prayers to the stars that he would return safely.

  
  


_ _ _

There was no real need to engage the hyperdrive when the destination planet was this close, so instead Din punched the engines as hard as they would let him to close the space between Coruscant and Atrania as quickly as possible. 

He still couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong, but seeing the girl and the kid become more comfortable had at least lessened his uncertainty. Despite his self-image and unfortunate affliction to always “be the hero”, he had to trust the girl. She wasn’t defenseless, no.  _ No, definitely not defenseless.  _ He thought back to how she had blown up Ba’Aki, fearlessly pointed a blaster at a _ Mandalorian _ , blown up two TIE fighters, beaten the shit out of Tripp Lento, and went drink-for-drink with Fennec Shand.  _ Amazing. _ He laughed, shaking his head in amazement at his woman. 

Code sequence acquired and relative quarry location secured, Mando began lowering the ship though the atmosphere of Coruscant just a few hours after leaving Atrania. Several sectors away from the bustling downtown political district, out of the peripheral view of any high-to-do ambassadors, yet conveniently within reach was the Red Light District. Buildings in this neighborhood of town were disguised in plain sight. An unspoken agreement between neighbors existed here, an understanding that what you saw you never spoke of, and unless they were well-paying, outsiders were a threat.

“Razor Crest to Sector 3-8 hangar requesting landing permissions” Din spoke through the communicator.

“Sector 3-8 to Razor Crest state your business.” A heavy voice asked.

“Razor Crest to Sector 3-8 supply run. Sending secure code sequence now.” Mando stated, remembering S’karet’s advice to only state that he was there for a supply run. Apparently it was a code, since there were hardly any “supplies” to obtain in this sector. Ambassadors looking for the company of the Red Light District nightlife used this phrase when passing through town. 

A moment hung, and Mando hoped that the sequence S’karet sent wasn’t expired.

After a long moment, the voice returned. “Sector 3-8 to Razor Crest code confirmed. Proceed to docking bay C-6.” Mando sighed in relief and continued his descent.  _ In and out. _ He didn’t want to have to be here a millisecond longer than he needed to.

The Razor Crest touched town with a slight bump that was familiar to Din’s muscle memory. He sighed, centering himself before focusing on the task at hand. He checked his gear one last time. 

Blasters? Check. 

Rifle? Check. 

Whistling Birds? Check.

Tactical knife? Check.

Cape? Beskar? Thermal detonators? Check, check, and check. 

The girl had taken care of everything, making sure it all was in working order, looking and functioning better than ever. Had it been entirely necessary? No, but it was appreciated more than she knew. The fact that someone cared enough about him that they wanted to make sure his gear was in top shape made his heart skip.

_ “You know, for weapons being your religion and all, you really take shitty care of your blasters.”  _ He heard her say in his memory. He snorted a laugh, shook his head and re-centered himself. If he was going to get in and out of this place quickly, he would have to be focused, and the frequent thoughts of her were a distraction.

Outside, the weather was warm and humid. For a planet-city of more than a trillion people, it was expected that the weather would respond in kind. All of that movement made the air thick and heavy. Din hated it. He preferred cooler temperatures or drier climates. Humidity like this made his beskar feel heavier than usual. 

The attendants watched him as he descended the ramp, sizing up the outsider visiting their protected neighborhood of drugs, sex, and crime. Din didn’t pay them any attention. He wasn’t here to intimidate--well not really--he was here to finish a job. Once this job was over, done clean or dirty, he was taking this girl around the galaxy. After all she had been through, she deserved to see the universe and he was going to show it to her. 

The hangar opened up to a busy street just on the outside of the District. In the distance to the East he could see dusty buildings with colorful lights shining from the windows. Tapestries hung over balconies and between structures, acting almost like curtains, creating an air of mystery to what lay beyond. Taking a quick look around to size up the immediate area for threats, Din made his way towards the District.

_ _ _

Dust clouds formed plumes of grey at your feet as you swept the floor of the single-room shack. Keeping this place clean and tidy was the very least you could do to thank your host for his hospitality. The little one looked up at you from the table against the back wall. “ _ Tah. _ ” he said solemnly.

“I know, buddy. I miss him, too. But it will be over soon enough.” you walked over to him, noticing in surprise that he had not touched his bowl of Scrumfish stew. The bowl stank to high heaven, but you figured that the kid would like that...considering that you had seen him eat some of the slimiest critters in the galaxy. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s take a few bites, yeah?” you sat down in the other chair and scooched it in close.

You tried to spoon feed the foul smelling thick liquid into his small mouth, but each time he turned his head away from you as you approached. You sighed deeply, frustrated, but understanding of his pain. He had been left by Mando for days at a time before, but never before had you seen him this upset because of it. Your brows furrowed. Maybe the kid was just as worried about Din as you were.

S’karet had been kind enough to give you and the kiddo some privacy, allowing you to adjust in peace, but it was getting late and you were hoping to wish him a good night before calling it a day. You inhaled a deep breath before taking away the bowl from the kiddo. “How about we save this, hmm? Let me go say good night to our host and then we’ll get you ready for bed.” The child looked up at you with his big brown eyes, so expressive for a creature who didn’t really speak.

S’karet was adding coals to the forge when you walked through the arched doorway into his shop. He turned around, wiping the dust from his large, three-fingered hands. “Hello, dear. How is the little one settling in?” he asked genuinely, gesturing for you to sit at the table where Mando had sat just several hours ago. 

You nodded. “He’s doing about as well as you can expect. I think he’s just grown so attached to his dad that he misses him deeply when he’s away.” You sat back in your chair, and crossed your legs comfortably.

S’karet nodded. “You three sure make an interesting lot, but it is nice to know the kid has ones who love him.” He turned away to face the forge again, but not before you noticed the same flash of pain on his face. “Every kid should have that, loving family around him.” S’karet’s voice changed at the end, sounding tight and strained.

You bit your lip, not wanting to involve yourself too much, but hoping to offer some comfort. You understood what it was like to lose a family member, and you had a hunch that S’karet had lost his son. “What does your son do now? Is he a blacksmith like you?” you ask quietly.

A heavy breath left S’karet. His head dropped and his shoulders hunched. Clearly, you had opened a can of worms. His back remained to you as he spoke, voice raspy and broken. “No,” he started slowly. “No, I haven’t seen my son in several years.” He stoked the coals, sending glowing, whirling sparks flying around the forge. The embers glowed brightly, the waves of heat rippling through them. “He got mixed up with a bad crowd and now he’s unfortunately working off a large debt.” S’karet stood still for a long moment.

You picked at your fingernails, unsure of what to say next. On one hand, you wanted to comfort this person by telling him that you know  _ exactly _ what it’s like, but on the other you didn’t want to reveal too much of your background. Perhaps it was that you were exhausted, perhaps it was the soothing, hypnotic rippling of the heat and light on the coal embers, but you ended up speaking your truth.

“I know exactly what you’re going through.” You started, sighing deeply. “For many years of my life I was in his situation: working under oppression, restricted and restrained.” you looked back down at your hands as he turned around to meet your face. Clearly, he had not expected that.

S’karet sat down at the table opposite of you, leaning on his elbows, intrigued. 

The embers cast deep shadows across the room, the only light glowing dimly from the forge. S’karet’s face was hard to read. He looked pained, yet intrigued in your story. You figured that perhaps he was feeling the same way you did, not wanting to open up too much, but wanting to offer comfort. Might as well start with your story.

You breathed a cleansing breath, and gave S’karet the shortened version of your story, telling him where you came from, what you had been forced to do under oppression. He sat quietly the whole time, eyes fixed on you, piecing together bits of your story as you told them. “...so when I saw that this guy we were after was the son of the guy I’d stolen from back in Ba’Aki, I kind of lost it and got sloppy.” you shook your head, and looked off into the distance. “And now Mando has to go fix my mistake.” A hard lump appeared in your throat and you clenched your teeth to fight back the tears.  _ Don’t waste the water. _

You realized what it was, now. Why S’karet was so easy to talk to. He reminded you of your Uncle Taru: hardened by his past, yet fatherly. Your eyes shined as you looked back up at him, who had not moved the entire time. There was an expression in his eyes that you could not decipher. It was something of pain, concern, and fear. 

Finally. He interlaced his six fingers, and looked down at his hands. “My son, Tu’vrik was also taken, well, recruited by...bad people. He made some mistakes here on Atrania that got him into deep financial trouble. Hanging out with the wrong crowds meant he was often drinking and gambling in places he shouldn’t have been.” His eyes met yours, pain painting his face. “When he couldn’t pay the gambling debt he’d acquired, these mobsters came after him.” S’karet hung and shook his head, covering his eyes with his hands. “They beat him to a pulp. They would have killed him had he not offered to work it off.”

You remained silent for a long moment, heart breaking for this guy. Clearly, he loved his son deeply. “I’m so sorry, S’karet. If there is anything we can do to help…” you let it hang. “Mando finds people for a living. He’s one of the best bounty hunters out there. Maybe there is something we can do to find Tu’vrik?” you state quietly, leaning forward towards S’karet, who was shaking his head before you finished talking.

“No, dearie. I’m afraid this is a matter I’ll have to solve on my own.” He offered a gentle smile. “Why don’t you go get some rest. Thank you for hearing my story.” he stood from his chair and gestured towards the back door leading towards the shack. You nod, understanding that even though you  _ could _ potentially help, not everyone wants it.

“Goodnight, S’karet. Thank you again.” You smiled and turned to walk back to the shack.

_ _ _

S’karet watched the girl walk across the worn path to the shed in the back of his lot, smile fading as soon as she walked through the door. He knew what he had to do, but his stomach was turning it knots because of it. The girl and the kid were so sweet, but there were no lengths he wouldn’t cross to get his son back from those horrid mobsters.

S’karet walked into his small bedroom, shades drawn unnecessarily against the darkness outside, making the room pitch black. The small screen on the communicator on his nightstand was the only thing offering any light. For a moment, he stood above it, weighing his options. Not only was he going to betray this girl, the child, and their Mandalorian guardian, but he was going to betray Shand too. He was disgusted with himself, but he needed to bring Tu’vrik home.

Picking up the communicator, he entered the secure code provided to him by one of the mobsters many years ago, given to him exactly for a purpose such as this. 

The communicator beeped, signaling that a connection had been established. “This is Belta Brut, state your business.” a croaky voice spoke from the other line. S’karet gulped down the dryness in his throat, straightened his spine and spoke.

“Mr. Brut, this is S’karet Ughel of Atrania. I have something Grem Lento might be interested in.”


End file.
